


Photograph | Ringo Starr

by TunaDiamond



Category: The Beatles (Band), Yesterday (2019)
Genre: 2020, Consent, F/M, Journalism, Liverpool, Marriage, Past, Sex, Smut, Time - Freeform, Time Travel, Time slip, Travel, University, Vaginal Sex, antique shop, liverpool john moores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 55,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunaDiamond/pseuds/TunaDiamond
Summary: A gift, from one lonely lady to another.Eleanor will never be lonely again.
Relationships: Cynthia Lennon/John Lennon, Jane Asher/Paul McCartney, Pattie Boyd/George Harrison, Ringo Starr/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on wattpad.com  
> My username on there is the same as here.  
> Also, please follow me on Instagram - my username is @tuna.diamond

The harsh night time winter wind came in through the bedroom window. It wrapped itself around me and I shivered, my joints aching as my arthritis flared up. I pulled the duvet more tightly around my body. My lungs rattled in my chest as I took another laboured breath. This was too much. How much longer could I go on like this?

I turned to my daughter, half asleep in the armchair beside my bed. "Moira," I said in a quiet tone, though still as loud as I could muster.

"Yes, mum?" She yawned as her eyes flittered open. Beautiful baby blue orbs, just like her father had had.

"I need you to get something for me."

"Anything." Moira stood up, her black hair flowing down her back in beautiful waves.

"I need my photo album. It's -"  
"In the dresser, buried under the vinyl, wrapped in dad's shirt." Moira paused, "I know which one you mean." She left the room momentarily to retrieve it. I could hear her moving around downstairs, looking for the one thing which I had always held onto, no matter what. When Moira came back upstairs, the photo album was in her hands, her father's shirt still wrapped around it to protect it. She put it in my lap and helped me to sit up. I gave a small smile to thank her. "Do you want me to leave you alone for a little?" Moira asked, a hand on my back lovingly, "I can come back in about an hour?"  
I nodded, "thank you, Moira." She nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
  


I unwrapped the album, placing the shirt beside me on the bed, remembering the day that I had gotten it. With a smile because of the memory, I gently opened the book to the first page. The pages were more yellow now than they had ever been. It had been years since I had last looked at this book, but as soon as I saw the first picture, memories came flooding back. It was the first time in years that I had allowed myself to remember those times. To remember them. To remember _him_.

The first picture was of four men; boys, really. Their ages ranged from twenty-three to twenty. Lovingly, I smiled at the photograph. They had been so young, then. We all had.

I turned the pages to the very last one. Four boys; men now. More hair on one of their heads than there'd been between all four of them in 1963. Absentmindedly, I stroked the photograph, ignoring my frail hands slipping through the page, disappearing into the greyscale photo.

I could almost hear their strong Liverpool accents as they laughed and joked with one another...  
  
  


"You've been gone a long time, Luv." I turned to my side and saw him. My Ringo. I burst into tears and threw my arms around him. "Hey, hey!" He laughed, patting my back lovingly as he embraced me. "What's wrong with ye?" No mention of the daughter that I had retreated with - had he been frozen in time since that day almost sixty years ago? Or had time run its course? Did he even remember his firstborn daughter?

"Mama!" I turned and saw a little two-and-a-half year old running across the green grass towards us. Her parents. Linda was standing behind her, smiling, still pregnant.

I knelt down and hugged my daughter, once again a child.

I picked Moira up and moved closer to Ringo. He wrapped his arms around both of us. "I am, so, so sorry," I told him. "I should have fought for our marriage -"  
"Hey, hey!" He exclaimed again, though now in a soft tone, no trace of laughter in it. "You're talking like you've been gone for decades. It's been ten minutes."

I just continued to cry, managing to stutter out a, "I missed you, Ringo!"  
He laughed. "You're my silly birdie." He placed a soft kiss on my lips, "but next time you go for a walk 'round, don't come back crying." He paused, "I hate seeing you sad."  
"I'm sorry," I told him honestly. "It's been so long, and I missed you, and I love you -"  
With another swift kiss, Ringo got me to be quiet. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." He told me with conviction. "And I love you so much more than you'll ever know... you and Moira and," he paused, "the little one."

He put a hand on my stomach. I looked down at his calloused, drummer's hand. "But how did you...?"

"I remember what you were like the first time," Ringo replied affectionately.

I smiled and leaned into him. Linda rushed in front of us and snapped a photograph. It was perfect. "I want a copy of that!" I told her.

"For that silly photo album of your's?" My husband teased.  
"It was your album first, Richard Starkey." I paused, "and you may think it's silly, but one day when you're old and grey, photographs will be the only things that you have to look back on."


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't go to university in Liverpool just because it was the hometown of  _ The Beatles _ .

It had always been my dream to study journalism somewhere far from home, and Liverpool had seemed like the perfect place to do so - not least because it was where my favourite band of all time had started.

As I stood in the porch of my new home, the house which I would be sharing with two other girls, I swallowed nervously. What if they were the kind to pry into my business? What if they went through my things?

I had never stayed away from home before, barring the few times when I had gone camping with the Girl Guides.

My heart was beating in my chest as I heard the chain being taken off the door and the lock clicking.

_ Here goes nothing _ , I thought,  _ the rest of my life starts now _ .

The door swung open. Two girls were standing there. The one who had answered the door was mixed race, and had light brown hair, warm brown eyes and platinum white teeth, covered by pink lips.

The second girl, who was standing slightly behind the first and to her left, had blonde hair, Caucasian skin and blue eyes. She had a wide smile, and her makeup was impeccable.

"Hi..." I said, "I'm Eleanor?"

"Oh, hey!" The first girl exclaimed, holding out her hand. I went to shake it, but she pulled me in for a hug. As she embraced me, the breath was knocked from my body - I wasn't the best when it came to hugs. "I'm Michelle Baxter." She let me go and I took a step back, breathing deeply to regain my breath - and cool. She looked to the girl behind her.

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, as if she had just realised that she was supposed to introduce herself. "My name's Lucy."

"Lucy Thomas." Michelle finished for her.

Lucy nodded. "Yeah." She agreed. "Thanks, Michelle."

_ There's something odd going on between those two - like a power play... and it seems like Michelle is winning - and has been for a while _ , I thought to myself.

"Come on in." Michelle waved me in. I wheeled my suitcase in behind me, picking it up to get it past the threshold. When she closed the door behind me, Michelle turned back to me, looking directly at my suitcase. "Is that all you bought?"

I nodded. "I don't need much."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She led me up the stairs. Lucy stayed downstairs.

Upstairs, there was a deep brown shag carpet and the walls were wallpapered in a deep red and gold geometric pattern. "I like the decorating." I said, trying to fill the silence. Michelle just hummed in reply and walked across the hallway and over to a closed door. She opened it. Inside, it was bare, save a double bed in the corner of the room facing the double window, and a built in cupboard - or wardrobe, perhaps - it was difficult to see how large the hole in the wall was when there was a door covering it.

"This is your room." Michelle gestured to the empty space. "Feel free to decorate it however you want - this is my parents' house, but they're both dead now, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Michelle," I said in surprise. I hadn't known that her parents were dead... she sounded bitter about it, but definitely not sad. She turned to me, her brown hair flying over her shoulder because she had whipped her head round so quickly. I jerked back at the movement. She didn't look impressed. "I-I'm sorry about your parents." I said, meaning every word.

"Don't be." Her voice was void of emotion.

"My mum died when I was just a toddler." I told her. "My dad died last year - cancer."

Michelle was silent, going into the room and opening the window. She looked out onto Admiral Grove before she turned back to me. "Penny Lane is a forty minute walk that way," she gestured to her right. "Most people who come to Liverpool want to go there at least once - something to do with  _ The Beatles _ ." At the mention of the band who had saved me after my father had died, my heart skipped a beat.

Actually, part of the reason why I had chosen to take the house share with Michelle and Lucy was that the house was on Admiral Grove, the same road as Ringo Starr, the drummer of  _ The Beatles _ , had lived in from the age he was three to when he left home to move to London.

I was literally living just metres away from where he had grown up.

"Thanks." I said, trying to hide how excited I was to hit all of  _ The Beatles _ sightseeing spots; Strawberry Field, Penny Lane, The Cavern Club, and everywhere else. "I'll maybe check it out."

I definitely would.

"Whatever." Michelle turned away from the window. "Rent's due on the last day of the month. Pay it to my bank. Not cash." I nodded. That sounded easy enough. "Do your own washing, and your own shopping. We've got one shelf in the fridge each, and a cupboard. Put a lock on your cupboard if you want, or keep some food in your room." She went to leave the room, but stopped, her delicate hand resting on the brass doorknob, the bracelets which she was wearing jingled as she moved, something which I hadn't previously noticed. "I don't care who you bring back, or what time of night or day - I don't care what you do - but no parties, got it?"

I nodded. "Seems reasonable enough."

"You get one written warning, and then you're out."

"Right." I said.

She left. I looked around the room. It was bare, and basic, but it was enough. It was home now.

I sat down on the bed -  _ my _ bed. It seemed brand new - even the mattress. Michelle had obviously put thought and time into making the house habitable for other students to live with her.

"To the rest of my life, dad." I sighed. "Let's get sorted, then." I started to unpack. Classes started in seven days, and I wanted to be settled in before then.


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearing six in the evening when I changed out of the clothes that I had travelled from London to Liverpool in. I wanted to put my pyjamas on and crawl into the freshly changed sheets of my new bed - but my Chelsea boots and leather jacket were calling to me. I had hung my jacket on the hook on the back of my bedroom door, and the boots were neatly tucked into the corner of the room with my slippers, black heels and trainers. I didn't own many pairs of shoes.

I pulled the boots on first and then grabbed my purse and my phone - which had been on charge - I had run down the majority of the battery on the train from home to here. It had been a long, lonely train journey, and I was glad that it was over. I had nobody to go back to London for, so it was unlikely that I'd Liverpool much in the next three years.

Of course, I still had the house which my dad had owned in St. John's Wood, but I knew that there was no point in paying for train ticket and making the long journey back to London if there was nobody there waiting to greet me when I stepped foot on the platform.

With a sigh, I slid my jacket on and then went downstairs. Michelle and Lucy were in the living room - I had to walk through there to get to the front door.

"Are you going out?" Michelle asked, sounding like she was in a better mood than she was when I had first arrived.

"Yeah," I replied, "I thought I'd go for a wander - do you know which way the Cavern Club is?"

"You won't get in looking like that." Michelle answered. "You need to dress up if you're going to one of the night shows -"

"Oh..." I said, looking down at my outfit with a disappointed look on my face. "Well I didn't really bring anything to dress up in, so -"

"You'll have to go shopping, then."

"Do you want me to go for a walk with you, Eleanor?" Lucy asked brightly, ignoring the negativity of her friend.

"No thanks." I answered in a taught tone.

"I could show you the way to the Cavern." Lucy offered. "I'm from Chester, and Michelle and I have been friends for years, so I've been there before -"

"No thanks." I repeated in a stern tone of voice. "I'm sure I can find my own way there."

Lucy looked disheartened. She sunk back into the sofa and I felt slightly bad for turning her down. "Oh..." she said, "have a good night, then."

"Thanks." I answered, trying to be a little nicer to her - she seemed a lot softer - and kinder - than Michelle did.

I left the house, not saying another word to either of them, making my way in the direction which Michelle had gestured to earlier when she was telling me where Penny Lane was.

* * * * *

I made it to Penny Lane without having to use my phone's Maps app. I felt like I had achieved something; like I was somehow one step closer to  _ The Beatles _ \- they would have known how to get to Penny Lane without even looking at a map or road sign, probably. As I walked along the street, I looked at every single sign. It was amazing how many of the shops had the name of the street in the title...

But then, if I had a shop on Penny Lane, I probably would have called it something to do with the road as well.

_ Penny Lane Antiques _ .

The shop was lit up, the 'open' sign on the door still facing outwards. I stepped up to the door and hesitantly pushed the door open. The bell above the door rang as I pushed the door open further and went into the shop.

It was brightly lit inside, and warm. The air smelt of must and dust, and there were two aisles created in the shop by placing different pieces of furniture up the middle. There was nobody at the counter, but I had a look around anyway.

There was lots of old vinyl records in the window,  _ probably warped _ , I thought as I realised that the sun would shine right in on them on a hot day. It was August 3rd, so we had had a lot of those lately. There was a few record players, all of them covered in dust, and lots of old, hardback books - there were no paperbacks to be found. The furniture was in poor condition. There were scratches on the wood, handles missing on some pieces. I felt a shiver run down my spine, but I wasn't sure why. This shop just gave me an odd feeling. I wanted to run, but something - similar to the feeling that had caused me to put my boots and jacket on - kept pulling me through the shop and closer to the counter. The different mirrors which hung at intervals on the walls on either side of the shop all had black edges, and black in other places, too - most of them weren't even usable.

When I reached the counter, I realised that it was glass, quite scratched. There was a lot of old pieces of jewellery in the cabinet which was visible through the glass, and there was an old Victorian-style till on the left side of the counter.

I rang the little bell which sat beside the till. There was no answer. After a few seconds, I rang again. I don't know why - what I wanted to do was leave the shop and never return. I wanted to walk back to Admiral Grove and get into bed... but something kept me from leaving.

I kept ringing the bell.

"Alright, alright!" A woman, frail-looking, with white hair, wrinkled, liver spotted skin and a toothless mouth appeared in the doorway behind the counter - I could have sworn that there was a black beaded curtain which had hung in the doorway a moment ago.

The woman was wearing a khaki green skirt and shirt - neither matching the other, somehow - and a black crocheted shawl around her small frame. "Huh!" She gasped, seemingly delighted, when she saw me standing in front of the counter. "Eleanor! You're here! You're here at last!"

I took a step back, shuddering. How did this strange woman know my name? She took a step forward. "Don't be scared now, dear."

"H-how do you know my name?"

"I've been waiting for you for a long time. I didn't know that you were coming to Liverpool  _ today _ !" She came to stand fully behind the counter.

I wanted to turn and run... but this woman fascinated me. She beckoned me closer. My feet obeyed her and brought me closer to the counter. I wasn't in control of them.

"You remember me, don't you?"

"I'm sorry..." I said, tailing off at the end. This was too weird. "I'm afraid, I don't... I really should be going - my friends will be worried about me -"

"No they won't." She paused, "besides, you're not really friends with those girls, are you?" The old woman laughed, having amused herself. I didn't say anything else. The woman reached into the pocket of her khaki skirt. I was on edge, my muscles tensed up and my blood frozen in my veins, partly because I was so interested in how she knew me and what she had to say, and partly because it was so scary - this woman seemingly a stranger to me, so how did she know so much about my life?

She pulled something out of her pocket in a fist, and then held her fist out for me. I put my hand underneath it and she dropped something into it.

It was a locket.

"But..." I trailed off. This couldn't be real, could it? "This was m-my mother's." I looked at the delicate silver locket in my hand. "You can't have this... it was in my dad's hands when we buried him -"

"And you regretted it." The woman gave me a soft, toothless smile. "You have it back now." She paused, " _ from Charlie, to Victoria. Aeternum _ ."

I turned the locket over in my hand and saw the inscription. The same as it had always been. The same as what the old woman had just said.

"How did you...?"

"It doesn't matter." She paused, "now, I know what you're here for."


	4. Chapter 4

"I've got something special for you." The old woman said with a warm smile.

I was not convinced, still staring at the locket in the palm of my hand, the silver now warm against my skin."Do you say that to all of your customers?" My thick London accent did nothing to mask the scepticism in my voice.

When the woman didn't reply immediately, I tore my gaze from the precious locket; a gift from my father to my mother, once upon a time.

"Just the ones who are looking for love." She answered when she saw that I was now looking at her again and that she had my undivided attention. The woman clicked her fingers.

When there was no change in anything around us, and nothing happened, I asked her, "is that supposed to do something?" I put the locket on and then crossed my arms against my chest, eyeing the stranger up.

The woman didn't answer. Instead, she pulled out a key from a chain around her neck and took it off. She bent down behind the counter. The sound of a lock turning echoed throughout the shop and then the sound of a drawer opening.

Of course, at this mysterious display, I was slightly interested. After thirty seconds or so, the woman stood up again. She was clasping a parcel wrapped in brown paper to her chest. She laid it on the counter between us.

I noticed that the parcel looked old - like it had been wrapped for years. "Do not unwrap this until you get home." The woman said firmly, with conviction.

I sighed. "I'm not buying that unless I know what is in it."

She shook her head, her wispy white hair moving with her. "No buying." The woman paused. "A gift. From me, to you. From one lonely lady to another." She pushed the parcel across the counter. I decided that there was little harm in taking it home with me - especially since it was free... and the woman had already given me back my mother's locket, something which I had thought would be lost forever, in my father's hands for eternity.

"Well, thanks... I guess." As I spoke, I looked down at the parcel in my hands. When I received no reply, I looked back up to see if the old woman was being cryptic again...but she was gone.

Quickly, I turned and left the shop, eager to be away from the mysterious lady and her shop of useless yet intriguing antiquities.

* * * * *

"You were gone a while." I looked round the living room door. Lucy and Michelle weren't in there. I followed in the direction which the sound of Michelle's voice had come from. The two of them were sitting in the kitchen, where a circular table was situated in the middle with four chairs around it.

Michelle and Lucy were eating together - different meals, but together nevertheless.

"Yeah." I said, "I found Penny Lane, and the antiques shop was open, so I had a look. The lady in there was... weird."

"The antiques shop?" Michelle asked in an odd tone of voice.

I nodded. " _ Penny Lane Antiques _ ?" I said, naming the shop. "It had a blue sign with gold lettering -"

"I know what one you're talking about." Michelle answered, "but it isn't there anymore."

"What?" I asked in surprise, unable to believe what I was hearing. "That can't be right. I was just in there -"

"It's true." Lucy agreed, now looking up from her half-eaten dinner, laying her fork down against the plate. "It burnt down about two years ago; the old lady who owned it was inside. I remember you telling me about it, Michelle."

I stared at the two of them, my eyes darting back and forth between Michelle and Lucy.

"Aha." I said uncomfortably, pointing to the two of them in turn, "good joke, guys. Nice try. Right, a haunted antiques shop. Good one."

"We're not joking, Eleanor." Michelle said in a serious tone of voice.

Lucy nodded in agreement. "The only thing left of  _ Penny Lane Antiques  _ is the charred floor foundations - nobody ever rebuilt the shop."

I sat down at the table between the two of them, feeling ill. Lucy put a hand on my back. "Why?" I asked in a quiet tone of voice.

"It's just an old wive's tale."

"Michelle," I said in a strained tone, turning to the other girl and shuddering as I realised that there was a lot more to Liverpool than I first thought, " _ why _ ?"

"People say it is cursed." Michelle was quiet for a few seconds before she continued. "It was a new build; well, relatively new for Penny Lane. During the bombing in World War Two, that shop was rebuilt twice, and was the only shop on Penny Lane to be bombed - to the ground - twice. Both times, the couple that owned it died. Since then, there have been a string of disasters; fires, burglaries, murders, you name it." She paused, "after it burned down in 2018, nobody bothered to rebuild it because everybody assumed it must have been cursed - why else would there have been  _ so many  _ disasters there?"

"I can't believe it." I said quietly, mostly to myself.

"It's true." Michelle promised. "I don't know where you were tonight, Eleanor, but it certainly wasn't  _ Penny Lane Antiques _ ."

"I feel sick."

"Do you want some water?" Lucy asked, getting up to fill a glass.

"No." I replied, stopping her in her tracks. "I think I need to sleep... this is... this is odd."

Lucy and Michelle nodded in agreement. "Yeah." They chorused.

"Do you want something to eat, at least?" Michelle asked.

"You haven't eaten all afternoon." Lucy agreed.

I shook my head. "No. I need to sleep. I need to -"

_ The parcel _ . I suddenly remembered it. I had put it down by the front door, on the little cabinet in the porch. I stood up. "I'm going to sleep... or to think, at least."

"Night." They chorused.

"Night." I dashed out of the kitchen and to the porch to retrieve the parcel which the old lady had given to me.


	5. Chapter 5

And there the parcel was, by the door on the cabinet, waiting for me. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief. I had thought that perhaps I had dreamed the entire thing, and I had just been for a walk to Penny Lane. If the parcel had been missing, then I would have known that I was losing my sanity...

But it wasn't.

And, arguably, that was more worrying.

I grabbed the brown parcel, not letting myself think of what Michelle and Lucy had told me about the cursed shop which I had apparently visited. I kicked off my Chelsea boots and left them in the porch, and raced through the living room and up the stairs. I opened the bedroom door, raced in and then shut it firmly behind me. There was a lock on the back of it, but I didn't bother putting it on.

I had told Lucy and Michelle that I was going to sleep, so I doubted that they would disturb me.

I placed the parcel on top of bed cover, took my jacket off, hung it up and then put my pyjamas on. I climbed under the covers and then grabbed for the parcel. I put it in my lap and stared at the brown wrapping for a few seconds.

If what Michelle and Lucy had told me was true, then did I really want to open this?

What could it be?

The anticipation was thrumming through me. It was killing me. I was itching to tear the paper off and see what was hidden underneath it.

My curiosity got the best of me.

I turned the parcel over and then stared at it again, wondering how best to open it carefully in case the contents were fragile. I slid a finger under the one of the flaps of the brown paper. I tore the paper off gently and then threw it onto the carpet beside the bed.

The parcel was a book. I turned it over and looked at the front.

My heart stopped.

Why did this book look so familiar?

But it wasn't a book - it was a photo album... but I still wasn't sure where I had seen it before, or why it looked so familiar to me.

I opened the first page and saw two pictures; both were of  _ The Beatles _ . How odd. How could that old woman have known that I liked the band? And what did she say?

_ Only those who are looking for love. _

What did she mean by that? I continued to flick through the album, being careful with the pages - they seemed so fragile.

Every photo was of  _ The Beatles _ , whether they were together, separate, or just a few of them in each one. And it seemed to span their entire career; their early days at the front of the album and then the very last photoshoot - which had taken place at Tittenhurst Park, John Lennon's home - were the final photographs.

"Jesus..." I muttered to myself. "This is weird. How is this even possible?" From the back of the book, I started to go backwards, stopping for a prolonged period of time to stare at each photo.

A lot of them I had never seen before - I wondered idly if this album would be worth money - I thought that I had seen almost every photo of  _ The Beatles  _ going, so if a lot of the photographs in here were ones that I had never seen before, maybe the rest of the world hadn't seen them.

Maybe I had thousands of pounds sitting in my hands in the form of a tatty old album, and I didn't even know it.

My nerves were on edge as I reached the first page again. I looked at the photograph, bringing the book closer to my face and my face closer to the album. "How is this even possible?" I repeated.

I recognised this photo. I had seen it before. It was taken at  _ The Beatles'  _ final performance at 'The Cavern Club', which had taken place on 3rd August 1963. With a gasp, I realised that that was fifty-seven years ago today. I laid the photo album back down flat on my lap and stroked the photo, wondering what it would have been like to hear them -  _ see  _ them - live... just once.

I could almost hear the music -

And suddenly I was falling, falling, falling. I was falling through space, and time. It was dark - pitch black dark - but my stomach was in my mouth and my heart was thudding against my rib cage. I was screaming, screaming, screaming.

I landed with a  _ whomp!  _ on the floor and groaned in pain, blinking a few times until some light began to appear before me, breaking up the darkness.

Momentarily I wondered if I was dead.

But then I saw four pairs of eyes; three brown and one blue, peering down at me curiously. The world came into focus. I realised that I was lying on the floor - on concrete - and I wasn't wearing my pyjamas anymore. Instead, I was wearing a tight-fitted dark purple dress which would have reached to mid-thigh length.

"Eh, she's out cold, int she?" I would have recognised that Scouse accent anywhere. John Lennon.


	6. Chapter 6

"Nah," a second voice said, "look she's waking up - CHRIST!"

"Ouch!" I hissed, wincing. "My head!"

"Your head!?" Paul McCartney said loudly, "you nearly knocked me out!"

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Paul, I -" I cut myself off when I looked at his face. Paul McCartney really was as beautiful as everybody said he was; the pictures of him in his Beatles days did no justice. He was as pretty as a girl, but his face was a lot more angled.

"Ah," George Harrison said, "so you know us, then?"

"I, um..." I looked around. Maybe there was some clue here as to what I could use as an excuse - if I said that they were the most famous band in the world then they wouldn't believe me; if my hunch was correct, then I was in 1963, on the 3rd August, their final show at the Cavern Club - and it was pre-Beatlemania. "Yeah." I paused, deciding to take a gamble, "I just saw your show - great, by the way."

"Well you know our names," John said, "what's your's, birdie?"

"My name is Eleanor, John Lennon." I said sharply, "and you'll do well to remember it - do not call me birdie."

"There you go." Ringo said with an amused grin, nodding at the other boys, "I told you she'd be harmless."

"Helpless if you ask me." John answered. He looked away from Ringo and to me, "what happened to you, luv? Why're you out here?"

"I'm, uh, not sure." I furrowed my eyebrows. How  _ had  _ I gotten here, to 1963? How had I got from Admiral Grove to Mathew Street? How had my clothes changed? I just didn't know!

"Did somebody bring you out here?" George suggested.

"A boyfriend, maybe?" Paul raised one thin eyebrow.

"Hmm." John smirked, "we're not interrupting anything, are we, luv?"

"Ew!" I exclaimed, "no, gross!"

"Eh, not public then?" John continued to tease me, but I just ignored him, instead turning to the other three.

"So what  _ are _ you doing out here?" Paul asked me again.

"I don't know." I answered. "I don't remember a thing beyond, um, watching your show."

"Alright, well did you come alone? Maybe one of us could dash in and find a friend for you -"

"I came alone." I told them. "It's my first night in Liverpool, actually. I'm supposed to be starting at Liverpool John Moores University -"

"Hmm, a student, eh?" John asked. I nodded. "You must be smart, then."

I didn't answer.

"Hear that, lads?" John said to the other Beatles, "that means we can leave her here, and she'll find her own way home!"

"John!" George exclaimed in horror, "we can't just leave her here! She's obviously confused and vulnerable -"

I wanted to deny George's words, but they were true. I  _ was  _ confused - how had I gotten here? And I was vulnerable - how did I get back? Did I  _ want  _ to go back to 2020?

"She's not  _ my  _ problem."

"There isn't any room for 'er at home." Paul explained. "Dad, Mike, Ruth and Angie - and  _ me _ ? It'll be chokka as it is."

"Elsie won't let me bring a stranger home." Ringo said, sounding genuinely regretful about it. "Sorry, birdie, but I think you'll have to go stay with Geo." Why did I correct John when he called me birdie, but not Ringo? I wasn't sure - perhaps it was the way his baby blue orbs were watching me intently.

"Lou's room is still set up." George agreed. "You could sleep there?"

"What if she's got people looking for her? Flatmates, perhaps?"

I shook my head. "They won't look for me."  _ And even if they did, they wouldn't be looking for me in 1963. _

"Aye well it's settled then, isn't it?" Paul said. We all looked at him to explain. "You stay with Geo tonight, we'll all be round tomorrow and we'll see if we can't find where you belong."

"Let's get her up, lads." George proposed.

Ringo, who had been kneeling on my right, wrapped an arm around my waist and laced his other hand with one of mine. He helped me up, supporting nearly all of my weight. "I'll walk back to Arnold Grove with you both."

"Paul and me'll see you tomorrow." He and Paul walked off in the opposite direction as George, Ringo and I did.

  
  


As we walked along the streets, I asked, "is there no public transport?"

"Afraid not, Eleanor." George answered. "It all stops as soon as it gets dark."

"You're from London, aren't you?" Ringo asked. I nodded. "What're you studying at university, then?"

"Journalism."

Ringo chuckled. "This isn't some elaborate ruse to get a story out of us, is it?"

"If it were, would I be getting one?" I asked - no,  _ flirted  _ \- back, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

Ringo stopped for a second and looked at me, but then he smirked and kept walking. George, who was walking a few paces ahead of us, hadn't even realised that we'd stopped. "You're forward, aren't you?"

"Better than being backwards."

"She's got you there, Ringo." George agreed with a laugh from in front of us.

"Hmm," Ringo hummed, "I suppose she has." We walked for another minute or so in silence before Ringo asked, "so why did you leave London?"

"For university -"

"Yes," the drummer interrupted me, speaking in a tone that implied that my answer was obvious, "but why didn't you go to a London university?"

"Because my parents are dead." I told him. "I have no siblings, no aunts or uncles or cousins. There is no reason for me to stay in London, so I came here instead."

"Have you always wanted to come to Liverpool?"

I shrugged, obviously not able to tell him the reason why Liverpool had called so loudly to me, but wanting to lie as little as possible. "Yes." I answered. "Liverpool has always appealed to me." He nodded, mulling over my words but not speaking anymore. George was about three or four metres ahead of us now. "What about you?" I asked.

"Me?" He sounded surprised to have been asked.

"Well, do you live in Liverpool now?"

"No." He paused, "me and the boys have just moved to London - our manager, Brian Epstein, noticed that we were spending most of our time in London recording, and he decided that it would be pointless for us to keep travelling from home to there."

"Home?" I repeated. "Even though you live in London, you don't consider it as your home?"

Ringo shook his head. "Liverpool is where I was born and raised. I'm a Northern boy through-and-through. One day, when all this Beatle stuff is over, I want to come home and look after my parents. I never want to leave, but duty calls, I s'pose."

_ Oh, Ringo _ , I thought,  _ if only you knew - Beatlemania will last for sixty years, and you'll never go home again. _

  
  


When we reached George's house, George was waiting on the doorstep. He stood up, checking his imaginary wrist watch. "And what time do you two call this?" He joked. "I thought I was going to have to send out a search party for you both!"

I giggled. "Sorry, Geo." I wondered if he would correct me on the use of the nickname, but he didn't. "We got a little caught up in conversation."

Ringo nodded in agreement.

"But she's here, safe and sound now -"

"No thanks to you, I'm sure." George smirked as he held out a hand for me. Ringo handed me over like I was a bride on my wedding day. "See you tomorrow, Rings."

"Night, Geo." Ringo, somewhat hesitantly, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. My mouth opened in surprise, but I didn't say anything. "See you tomorrow, Ellie."

And he turned. George and I watched him walk to the end of the small front garden and then go through the gate, walking back up the street, his hands shoved into his pockets as he whistled a quiet tune to accompany him home.


	7. Chapter 7

The bed that I was in was very comfortable. I turned over and hit my head on the bedside table - right, single bed. I had forgotten that.

Wait,  _ single bed _ !?

I sat bolt upright - and my forehead collided with somebody else's.

I opened my eyes. "George!" I exclaimed in a mixture of surprise, happiness and annoyance.

Why had he been hovering over me? Now my head ached... but here I was, in the same room as a twenty-year-old George Harrison!

"Sorry." He rubbed his head, wincing. "I made you some tea - I thought I'd bring it up..." he gestured to the mug of steaming tea which was sitting on the bedside table where I had just bumped my head - the first time.

"Oh," I replied with a smile, "thanks, Geo."

"Not a problem - I didn't know how you liked it, so I did it milky and sweet."

"That's perfect." I took a sip from it and let out an audible sigh of content. "God, that's good."

George chuckled and I blushed. "The lads - well, Paul - have phoned. He said he's going round to get John out of bed and then they'll be on their way over."

I waited for him to explain about Ringo, but he didn't. I didn't want to make it obvious that I was fond of Ringo Starr, so I didn't ask about him, either.

George continued to speak, "do you remember anything?"

_ Yes, everything _ .

"No." I replied. "I'm sorry, George, I just don't remember."

"It's okay." He placed a hand on my shoulder to reassure me. "Are you hungry? We've got cornflakes downstairs."

I shook my head, "I don't really eat brekkie." I answered, using a phrase which I knew would be familiar to the youngest Beatle. We sat in silence for a few moments. I didn't want to make it awkward between us, so I knew that I had to keep up the conversation. "Whose room was this, again?"

"My sister's." George answered, looking around the room for a few seconds before he turned back to me. "Louise's."

"Where is she now?"

"America." 

"What is she doing there?"

"She married and moved." He shrugged. "I'm supposed to be going there next month to visit her."

"That'll be fun, I'm sure." I smiled encouragingly. "I bet you miss her."

He nodded. "Me and Lou were always close -"

He was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. "I'll go get that, and you get dressed. Mum washed your clothes last night - don't worry, she undressed you, not me - and put them on the line early this morning - they're all dry." He gestured to the chair of Louise Harrison's desk, where my dress was hanging over the back of the chair. "Bathroom's downstairs, but I also brought up some hot water for you to use." He gestured to a bowl on the desk. It was steaming.

I thanked him and he left the room.

When I went downstairs about twenty minutes later, I felt slightly cleaner than I had when I had gotten out of bed that morning: I had found one of Louise Harrison's hairbrushes, and had used it to brush and style my hair into beautiful black waves flowing down my back. There had been none of Louise's makeup to use, so I felt a little bare, but I was sure that I would get used to it.

Ringo was sitting on the settee. He stood up when I came into the room, "well good morning, Eleanor!"

"It was Ellie last night." I teased him as he embraced me, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

Despite the fact that I had stayed with George last night, I felt closest to Ringo.

"Last night was different." Ringo answered quietly, still holding me close to him so that he could whisper in my ear as he led me over to the settee, pulling me down gently so that I could sit beside him. George was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was making tea for us all.

"How?" I asked, feeling like I was being perhaps a little too clingy to Ringo already. "Has something changed between us?"

He shook his head. "No," he promised, "but things are different at night."

"So for you to call me Ellie and birdie, it has to be night time?" Ringo narrowed his eyes at me. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing." He paused, "I'm just trying to understand you."

"How so?"

"Well you told John not to call you birdie," Ringo pointed out, "but now you're  _ asking  _ me to call you it."

"You're different, Ringo." I paused, "just like the night time."

A smile spread across his face then. He leaned closer to me, and for a split second, I thought that our lips would touch. I was leaning closer, just mere inches away from him -

"That didn't take long, did it?" George came in with a tray in his hands. Ringo and I jerked apart, though we stayed seated closely together. The lead guitarist looked between us. "Did I interrupt something?" He asked in an amused tone.

"No." Ringo said quickly - too quickly.

"Hmm." George hummed as he placed the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the settee opposite Ringo and I. George didn't seem convinced.

We sat in silence for a few seconds before Ringo cleared his throat, drawing both of our attentions. "So you're parents out, then?"

George nodded. "Mum's gone to visit a friend, dad's gone to work and Peter and Harry have gone out to work, too. We're alone."

"Eh, didn't take too long, did it?" Paul exclaimed.

"The boys are here." George said as he stood up to go and get some more of his mother's teacups for John and Paul.

John and Paul came into the room before George got back.

"Louise washed your dress then, I see?" Paul said, gesturing to my clean outfit.

"That's Geo's mum." Ringo whispered in my ear.

"Oh, yeah." I replied to Paul. "It was nice of her."

"It's looks lovely on you." Paul flattered.

I blushed and turned a little to Ringo. "Um, could you maybe pour me some tea?" Ringo gave me a soft smile and nodded, leaving his seat to get us both a cup of tea.

"So have you remembered anything, then?" John asked as he sat in George's recently vacated seat.

"No." I replied. "I don't remember a thing after you all finished performing."

George came back into the room and sat beside John. Paul sat on the floor beside the tea tray, helping himself to one of the cups which George had just put on the tray. He made himself a cup of tea and sipped at it thoughtfully. Ringo held a cup of tea out to me and then smiled when I took it, sitting back down closely beside me.

"Is there anybody we can call for you?" I shook my head.

"My parents are dead. I'm not on great terms with my room mates, and I don't have any friends or other family in London."

John and Paul were quiet when I mentioned that my parents were dead. I knew that they had both lost people; John had lost his parents, and Paul had lost his mother.

"Couldn't we just -"

"I know what you're thinking, Ringo, and the answer is no." John said, wagging a finger at the man beside me.


	8. Chapter 8

"What are you...?" I asked, looking between the four Beatles.

Ringo sighed. "We're going to Blackpool for a show tonight, and I was going to suggest that you could come with us -"

"Which is not happening." John interrupted.

"Well if she doesn't have anybody here for her -"

John cut George off. "She  _ does _ ." He paused. "She just can't remember them."

"John, don't be unkind." Paul chided. "She hasn't got anybody at the moment - just us. Why can't she come with us?"

"What if she blabs?"

"To who?" George asked, "the  _ Liverpool Echo _ ?"

"That's as far as our popularity reaches 'round here." Ringo agreed.

"Come on, you lot." John said, standing up, "you've gone soft - the lot of you! We're going to the -"

"Toppermost of the poppermost." Paul finished. "We know, John. We know." He sounded tired. He had probably heard John's speech loads of time before.

"Look," I said, sighing. I stood up and was directly opposite John, looking into his eyes - well, he was about four inches taller than I was, so I was looking at his mouth. "I need some help, okay? I don't remember anything, and I don't know anybody here - you four are the only people I've met that I trust. I know it's a lot, asking to come with you, but I just need some help."

Ringo laced one of his hands with mine. I turned to him. He was on the settee, but he was looking up at me, smiling.

"Oh, come off it, Ringo." John sneered. "Just because you got a thing for the birdie -"

"My name is Eleanor!" I yelled at John, catching him and the others off guard. They all sat back as if a great gust of wind had blown them that way. "Oh, God..." I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. "I'm sorry, I have to go, I -"

I turned and dashed out of the room, going back upstairs and to Louise Harrison's bedroom.

I closed the door behind me, sobbing fitfully as I sat against the wall which the bed was beside. How could I have shouted at John like that? And now I'd embarrassed myself in front of  _ all  _ of the boys - as if they'd let me go with them now!

There was a knock at the door. I sniffled and wiped away my tears before I turned. "C-come in," I said in a shaky tone. I cursed myself because I couldn't control my voice.

The door opened a little and Ringo poked his face in. "It's just me, birdie." He promised.

I smiled despite myself, patting the bed beside me. "You called me birdie." I pointed out as he came into the room, shutting the door once more behind him, and sat beside me.

"I did." He agreed, hesitating before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. Willingly, I moved, resting my head on his shoulder. "I decided that you were right."

"I was?" What was he talking about?

"You said that I was different, just like the night time... well, you are too. So you'll always be birdie to me, night or day."

I smiled. "Oh, Rings." I bit my lip, wiping away a stray tear which had slipped down my cheek. "Did I completely embarrass myself?" I asked him.

"No," Ringo chuckled. "You just put John in his place, which doesn't happen too often - in fact, he'll probably respect you more for it, now."

"Thanks for coming up to check on me." Daringly, I wriggled closer to him. "You  _ are  _ different, y'know?"

"How does an odd little birdie like you end up in the alley next to The Cavern, with no idea how she got there, but every other memory that she needs?" He paused, "and why are you so reluctant to get back to your roommates?"

I bit my lip, reaching up absentmindedly to play with the locket which was around my neck - my mother's necklace.

Suddenly, I was spinning through time again, a feeling which I had experienced only once before, only this time I didn't know where I was going.

"Oh God," I winced, "my shoulder, I -"

Michelle was sitting on my bed, looking through the photo album.

"Michelle!" I hissed, "careful with that!" I jumped up from the floor, where I had landed, once again in my pyjamas, and grabbed the book from her. 

"You alright?" Michelle asked, not bothering to mention how I had taken the book from her.

I nodded slowly, looking around the room. Nothing had changed. "What happened?"

Michelle replied, "Luce and me just thought it was odd you were being so quiet since it's been a weird day for you."

"I told you I was going to sleep."

"But you didn't," Michelle pointed out. "Is that a photo album of  _ The Beatles _ ?"

I didn't answer, instead, I flicked through the book quickly, seeing the same photos which had been there before...

But on the first page, in the first photo - the one which I had stroked before I had found myself in the alley outside of the Cavern Club, the photograph had changed. It was no longer of the three boys performing, but rather of the five of us; that is, George, John, Paul, Ringo and myself, sitting in George's parents' living room. I slammed the album closed.

"Oh God," I said, mostly to myself, "it was real - all of it."

"What was?"

I turned to Michelle, having momentarily forgotten that she was still sitting on my bed, a very clear look of confusion on her face.

"Nothing," I replied, trying desperately to keep my voice at the same level. "Just don't come in here again if I'm being quiet, okay? I could have been sleeping or something."

Michelle sighed. She stood up, "you're so secretive." She went over to the door, which was now open because she had come through it. "That is not going to work if you're going to stay here. We have to be open with each other."

"No." I paused. "This isn't a relationship. I can be as closed off or 'secretive', as you call it, as I like. Leave me alone. Don't come in my room or touch my things again." Michelle didn't say anything else, she just left the room, slamming the door behind her.

I went over to the bedroom door and made sure to lock it before I went to sit back on my bed. I opened the book and stroked the first photograph again. The one of the five of us.

The wind picked up again and I was swept away, back to 1963.


	9. Chapter 9

I startled, opening my eyes. At least my shoulder didn't hurt this time. I had landed on something soft. I assumed it was Louise Harrison's bed, but when somebody yelped, "Jesus!" I knew that I had not landed on the bed. I had landed on Ringo, instead. I was laying in his lap, facing him, in fact..

"What?" I asked, sitting up. "What happened?"

"One minute you're in my arms, and the next you disappear. Then I blink, and suddenly you're face down in my lap. You tell me, Ellie."

I blushed, looking down at his lap as he mentioned it. I could see the outline of his erection, presumably not fully hard, but noticeable nonetheless. Ringo followed my line of vision and then blushed a deeper red than I had. 

I coughed, trying to cover up that I was looking, and partly to distract Ringo from his embarrassment. "Supermassive black hole?" I suggested.

Ringo chuckled. "Ah, you're a funny one, aren't ye, birdie?"

I sighed. Ringo had just seen me disappear then reappear, and apparently within a few seconds of each other. There was no way I was getting out of this one. "Ringo, I can't tell you the truth."

"Well then this conversation is over - get your shoes on and I'll walk you back to the Cavern, because you  _ obviously  _ know what's going on, and you've been lying to all of us -" He went to go get off of the bed, but I placed my hand on his knee to stop him.

"No!" I exclaimed. 

Ringo turned to look at me, mildly amused, a small smirk on his face at the fact that I was touching his leg in such a sensitive way.

Ringo sat back down, closer to me than he had been before he had stood up. He put an arm around my shoulders again and I moved closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It was like a magnet.

"So explain, then," the drummer said quietly. It was intimate between us at that moment, the sexual tension in the room so thick that it could have been cut with a knife.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," I replied in a tone so quiet that I wondered if he could actually hear me.

Ringo was silent for several seconds before he took a deep breath. He grasped at my hand which had been resting on his knee and laced his calloused fingers with my delicate, soft ones.

"Try me." He narrowed his beautiful baby blue eyes at me, "I think I'd believe anything that you told me, birdie."

I took a deep breath. "You have to promise not to tell the others."

"I can't..." Ringo looked into my eyes and I looked into his. I knew what he was about to say,  _ I can't promise that _ ... but when we saw into each other's souls, his answer changed. "I promise."

"Ringo, I'm not from here."

"You're from London."

"No... well, yes, but I'm not from  _ here _ . I mean, I'm not from 1963." 

"That's -"

"I'm from the year 2020," I told him.

"No..." I expected him to recoil from me, but he didn't. "That's impossible... isn't it?"

He turned to me for reassurance - he turned to me so that I could tell him I was joking, and that really I was a confused sixties southerner... but I wasn't.

I bit my lip before I replied, "I'm sorry I lied."

"Can you prove it… that you’re from the future?"


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't," I told him. "I have nothing to prove it with. When I came here, I was wearing just my pyjamas - I was in bed, in fact. I don't know how I managed to end up on the floor in the alley by the Cavern, and in a completely new dress."

Ringo sighed.

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me," I said with a defeated sigh.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Ellie." Ringo squeezed my hand gently and then relieved the pressure. It was intended as an act of reassurance, "it's just... a lot to take in."

"I know, I know," I agreed, "but Ringo, I'm not lying. I wouldn't lie to you, not after you asked me to be honest."

"I believe that," he promised, "but how do I know that you're for real? Maybe this is just a PR stunt from the  _ Echo _ , just like the lads said -"

I began to cry, which I hated myself for. How could I let myself appear so weak in a moment like this?

"Hey, hey, hey..." he wrapped me up in his arms, "I'm sorry, El. I didn't mean to accuse you of being a liar, and I know that's what it sounded like. You just have to understand that this is a lot to take in, especially for somebody as thick as I am -"

"You're not thick, Rings," I promised him, wiping a tear from my face. "I don't blame you for being sceptical. It's a lot, I know... but I. Wouldn't. Lie."

He held me close to him, cradling my head in one of his large hands. I allowed myself to relax against him, but I knew that it was wrong, really. I wasn't supposed to be in 1963 with him. 

I was supposed to be in bed in 2020, reunited with my mother's locket and cosy and warm under the bed cover.

And then I realised that I  _ could  _ prove that I was from the future. I pulled myself away from him.

"I can go back to 2020 right now," I told him. "I can bring something back, I -"

My words were lost in the mouth of none other than Ringo Starr. I was frozen, unable to kiss him back. When he realised that I wasn't reciprocating the kiss, Ringo pulled away and looked into my eyes.

"Is something wrong?" He asked. "Should I not have done that? I'm sorry if I offended you -"

He cut himself off when he saw me put a finger to my lips and trace the imprint which his mouth had left on my own.

"That shouldn't have happened..."

"I'm sorry." He repeated. "I shouldn't have kissed you - I thought I was doing something which you would like."

"Ringo, that felt wrong." I looked back to his eyes, "but I don't know why." I got off of the bed, now crying even more. "That should have felt right! Why didn't it feel right!?" I paced across the room, back and forth. Ringo got off of the bed and tried to put a hand on my shoulder, but I pulled myself away from him when he reached out for me.

"You need to calm down, Ellie." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He flicked the lid open and took two out, placing one between his lips and holding the second one out for me to take.

I stared at it.

After a few seconds, Ringo slowly said, "cigarette...?" Expertly, he reached back into the same pocket with his free hand and brought out his lighter. He lit it and then put the flame to the end of the stick. When it caught, he flicked the lighter and the lid extinguished the fire. He put the lighter back in his pocket, along with the box of cigarettes.

I still hadn't taken the cigarette from his hand.

"You shouldn't smoke," I said quietly, sounding like I was in a daze. There was no sexual tension between us at that moment - it was almost the opposite.

"Why not?"

"It's bad for you."

"How do you know that?" Ringo asked me, sucking on the stick before he put the end of the second cigarette - the one which he had offered to me - to the end of his lit one. When the second one caught the flame, he held it back out to me. It was now smoking.

"I'm not going to smoke that."

"One fag won't hurt you, birdie." Was this what peer pressure was? Ringo was urging me to smoke, and I knew that I was fighting an internal battle - I had always wanted to do it because I thought it looked cool and guys who smoked looked sexy...

When I looked away from the cigarette momentarily and at Ringo's face as he drew on the nicotine, I cursed myself.

I reached out. "One fag," I told him.

He nodded and agreed, "one fag." I put it to my mouth and smoked.

"Is the smoking a future thing?" Ringo asked me. "Do  _ I  _ still smoke in 2020?"

"No, it causes cancer -" I cut myself off. "George!" I raced out of the room and downstairs, leaving Ringo to race after me in confusion.

The other three Beatles were all sitting in the living room talking. When they saw me enter - more like fall - into the room, they stopped their conversation and looked up at me.

Paul had a cigarette in his mouth.

"Eh," John said, "where'd you bum the ciggy from? Don't tell me poor little Ringo gave his birdie a -"

"Cram it, Lennon!" I went over to George. John didn't reply because I had shocked him. "George!"

"Eleanor?" He asked, sounding confused.

Ringo entered the room, "El, what are you -"

"George, you have to stop smoking!"

As I spoke, ash from my cigarette fluttered down into his lap. I cursed, taking the cancer stick from my mouth and handing it to Ringo, who had moved so that he was standing close to me.

"But I -"

"No, George!" I yelled, "you all do! It's bad for your health! It causes cancer!"

Paul took the stick from his mouth and stubbed it out on the fireplace beside him. He laid the cigarette down on the tiles of the fireplace. I knew that Paul's mother had died of breast cancer, and so I hoped that he would take the lead in stopping the other lads from smoking.

"No it doesn't, you daft -"

"I'd listen to her, John," Ringo said in a low, warning tone.

"And why's that, lad?" 

Ringo and I exchanged glances. I shook my head subtly, hardly moving it at all. None of the other boys noticed, or at least, I hoped that they didn't.

"She, um... knows what she's talking about. One of her roommates is studying medicine."

John got up, running his fingers through his signature Beatles' mop top. "I can't take this anymore!" He whirled on me, "this bird," he said, pointing at me accusingly, "is driving me crazy! She's doing my nut in!" He snarled the last part, "if  _ she _ 's coming to Blackpool with us, then tell Neil and Eppy that I'll make my own way there."

And he stormed out of the house. We all called after him.


	11. Chapter 11

The three of us spent the rest of the day at George's house. We played Scrabble, mostly, but we drank lots of tea and George made spam sandwiches for lunch. It was fun, and it was easy, and I knew that for the rest of my life I would treasure that day.

About two hours before their concert in Blackpool began, there was a knock at the door. Paul, George and Ringo were all ready to go.

So was I.

George had taken me upstairs and shown me Louise Harrison's wardrobe - she had left a lot of her fancy clothes behind, apparently.

He had told me that I could borrow whatever I wanted to before he had left the room so I could get changed into my attire for the night.

I chose a simple yellow shift dress with a white cross pattern stretching from my neck to the bottom of the dress and then across my breasts. I smirked when I saw that, knowing that it would draw attention to my full assets.

I wanted Ringo's attention.

But then I cursed myself for thinking that - Ringo had kissed me, and I had been unable to kiss him back. It had felt wrong. Why was I still obsessed with him noticing me? With  _ us  _ feeling right? I didn't know.

There was also some yellow Mary Janes in the bottom of the wardrobe and a yellow headband. It seemed that Louise Harrison liked her outfits to match completely. I did my hair and put the headband into place, now sporting what many would have considered a 'classic sixties hairstyle'. I opened the door of the bedroom when I was ready to go and found Ringo sitting there.

When I had opened the door, he almost fell back into my legs because he had been leaning against it. He was now lying on his back on the floor having lost his support.

I giggled, "you're not looking up my skirt, are you, Ringsie?"

He sat upright and swept a ringed hand through his hair. "O'course not." He promised. Ringo stood up. "You look lovely, Ellie."

I smiled. "Does it match?"

He nodded.

"Do I look like a 60s teenager?" I asked him.

He nodded again, holding out his arm for me to take. Grinning, I took it. Even if kissing him didn't feel right, being with him did, and I was determined to uphold that - for as long as I could without kissing him again, anyway.

"How old are you, by the way?" Ringo asked. I looked at him in confusion.

"Does it matter?" 

"Not to me." He promised, "but you asked if you looked like a teenager. Does that mean that...?" He trailed off, obviously unsure of how to phrase the question.

"I'm eighteen," I told him. "I'll be nineteen on the eighth of September."

"I'll have to get you a present then," Ringo said with a grin as he led me into the Harrisons’ living room.

I giggled. "I suppose you will."

A stranger was sitting with George and Paul, all three of them sipping from cups of what was probably tea -  _ The Beatles  _ seemed to be infatuated with the drink - I enjoyed it, too, but I had never drunk it regularly, all day every day as they did. Usually, I drank it with my breakfast (when I had it), but always with a bacon sandwich, regardless of what time of the day it was.

"Lou loved that dress," George remarked as he saw what I had chosen, "I have no idea why she didn't take it with her - you look lovely in it, Eleanor."

I smiled, "thank you, Geo."

"You really do look a vision," Paul agreed as he stood up. He had been sitting on the settee, not the floor when I had come in. "This is Neil Aspinall, Eleanor," he explained, "our roadie."

"For all intensive purposes." Neil chuckled as he stood up and came over to shake my hand. "Lovely to meet you." He turned to the boys, "can we go now?"

Ringo nodded, "right, come on then, El -"

"She's coming  _ with  _ us?" Neil asked in disbelief and annoyance as he looked me over again.

"Yes," Ringo replied, "just for the show - she's never seen a Beatles concert, have you, Luv?" I shook my head. "See?" Ringo said.

"There isn't enough space in the car -"

"John's making his own way there," Paul called. He had retaken his seat on the floor and was idly playing with the cigarette which he had put out earlier, rolling it between two of his fingers.

"Why?"

Ringo answered, "he got a cob on 'cos Ellie gave him a piece of her mind when he kept teasing her."

"Hmm," Neil said in an amused tone, "that doesn't sound like John at all - teasing somebody? Never."

"Your sarcasm isn't funny." George drawled. He lit a cigarette.

"George!" I yelped, hurrying to him and taking the cigarette. "Don't smoke that, for God's sake!"

"Hey!" George cried indignantly as I broke the cancer stick in half.

As I was glaring at George because he was reaching for another cigarette, I heard Neil whisper to Ringo, "is she always so... dictating?"

"She's very...  _ progressive _ ," Ringo answered slightly louder, presumably so that I could hear what was being said. I smiled a little. I could almost imagine him crossing his arms against his chest as he spoke, nodding a little at Neil as his words had a double meaning to them.

I was progressive to him, but to me, it made sense not to smoke.

Neil sighed. "Whatever. Get in the car... but I am  _ not  _ driving back here afterwards to drop her home." He was now speaking at a normal volume.

"I can make my own way back," I promised Neil.

I went to get in the back of the car, but Ringo stopped me. "We're sitting in the front." He pulled me to the passenger side of the front seats and waited for me. 

"Do you mind if I sit by the window?" I asked him, "I don't think that Neil likes me very much."

Ringo didn't mind at all. He got in so that he would be sitting beside Neil, and then I slid into the seat beside him. Unlike cars in the twenty-first century, there was a bench in the front and back of the car and not individual seats. I found that I liked that more than having two seats in the front and three in the back. It seemed like there was more space, somehow.

Neil got into the driver's seat and started the car. It was loud and the whole car vibrated.

"Oh!" I exclaimed as Neil drove over a speed hump and my head hit the top of the car.

"George!" Paul exclaimed. Ringo and I turned and Neil looked in the mirror in the middle of the front of the roof. George was puffing on a cigarette - God knows how we hadn't smelt it.

Paul took the cigarette from him and flicked it out the window.

"Ah, Christ." George said to Paul, "not you, too -"

"You know what happened to my mother," Paul answered in a measured, warning tone of voice. "If what Eleanor says is even a bit true, then we're giving it up."

"We?" Ringo raised an eyebrow.

"All of us," Paul confirmed, locking eyes with the drummer. "Even John - whether he likes it or not."

I thought of what happened to John in 1980, and I wanted to tell Paul that it probably wouldn't matter if John smoked - but I didn't have it in me.

How could I tell him that his best friend was going to be gunned down by a madman just weeks before Christmas?

And then I realised what kind of a position I was in.

I knew what happened to all of  _ The Beatles _ , and I knew how the band ended and what would happen - with a start, I realised that I could stop those events from happening. I could maybe stop John from meeting Yoko, from the band ever breaking up... I could maybe even stop George from dying (if I got him to stop smoking), and I might be able to save John - all I had to do was be there on 8th December 1980...

But that was a lot of commitment.

How was I supposed to still be sticking around with  _ The Beatles  _ in seventeen years time? By 1970, the band would cease to exist -

Would I even still be  _ around  _ in 1970?

"You okay, Ellie?" Ringo asked me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, biting my lip. "I just have a headache, is all," I assured him. "Just, um... maybe I hit it last night?"

"Maybe." Paul agreed from the backseat. "Or maybe it's that you haven't eaten today -"

"No, Paul," Neil said from beside Ringo, an edge to his voice as he spoke.

"But she can't sit to Blackpool like that!" Paul pointed out. "Just pull over, Nel," I remembered reading somewhere that  _ The Beatles  _ had used 'Nel' as a nickname for their roadie, "I'll pop in and get her a buttie or something -"

"No." Neil pulled the car over. "You all stay here. Don't move. Don't get out, don't attract  _ any  _ attention because we're running late as it is." He dashed into the fish and chip shop which he had parked outside.

When he returned minutes later, he handed the chip buttie to Ringo who handed it to me. "Eat this, birdie." Ringo instructed as I took the sandwich and began to eat, "I'm sure you'll feel better."

Neil started the car again and pulled out into the road, picking up the journey again. "Unless somebody is dying, I'm not stopping again."

"Do we have to be dying or can it be someone on the street -"

Neil let out an exaggerated sigh and didn't answer.


	12. Chapter 12

We arrived at the Queen's Theatre in Blackpool with barely any time to spare. Brian Epstein was already backstage, and Paul, George and Ringo knew that they would be in for it.

They hadn't run my presence by Brian, and that was not a good thing.

From the little that I knew about  _ The Beatles _ ' manager, he was controlling - not in a bad way - but in the way that he wanted to be involved in every aspect of their lives for them to have the best appearance and be the most popular band in the world.

Little did they, or indeed, he, know how well he would do at that job.

The boys walked into their makeshift dressing room. Ringo was last, and I was beside him.

Brian was talking with John, the two of them sitting close beside one another on the settee facing away from the door. "Took you long enough, boys," Brian said as he stood up and turned to the door - and us. When he saw me, a small smile spread across his face, "who's this?"

John turned and saw me. He laughed. "This is Ringo's new bird that I told you about, Eppy -"

"Nice to see you again, too, John." I simpered, finishing the sentence with a sarcastic smile.

"Always a pleasure,  _ Mrs Starkey _ ." John snarled in response, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Oh shut it, Lennon -"

"Boys!" Brian Epstein snapped. Ringo and John, George and Ringo - and myself - all turned to look at the well-dressed man in front of us once again. "That's enough - personal problems later."

There was a knock at the door. One of the staff was standing there, a clipboard in his hand and a pair of old-fashioned headphones covering his ear. The six of us; the band, Brian and myself, all turned to see what the man wanted.

"Sorry to interrupt." He didn't sound sorry. "There's five minutes until showtime, boys."

Brian thanked the man and told him to leave. 

"We have to get ready now," Ringo said as Paul dragged him and George out of the room to where they had to change into their trademark Beatles suits... John followed of his own accord shortly afterwards, doing his best to avoid me. 

It was just Brian and me in the room now. He sat back down on the settee, lighting a cigar which he took from his pocket. I sighed and went to sit on the settee opposite him - the one which was facing the door. I knew how he died, and I made a snap decision that there was little point in trying to convince him not to smoke.

"Ringo seems to be quite taken with you."

I looked at him in surprise - I hadn't expected the great Brian Epstein to speak to  _ me _ . "I, um, yeah." What else could I say in reply to that?

"You do know the rules, don't you, Eleanor?" 

"How did you know my -"

"John told me," Brian answered, cutting me off before I could ask how he knew my name. "Now," he puffed out some smoke around the cigar, "the rules."

"Rules?" I raised an eyebrow.

"They - that is, the boys - have to appear single. I want them to be so famous that they can't set foot outside of their own homes without being bombarded by girls."

_ Oh, you'll achieve it, Brian Epstein _ .

I nodded. "I know that I can't be seen with him... but I don't want to be."

"So Ringo's feelings are..." he looked at his manicured fingernails. I wondered where he got them done or if he did them himself - I doubted that there were many places in the country at this time where a man could get his nails done and not be called a poufter or a similar, vulgar phrase. He continued to speak, "unrequited?"

I blushed. "Well..."

"Because there will not be any exceptions to this rule." Brian continued. "John's wife, Cynthia, is never seen out with him, is she?"

I shook my head. "No, Sir." It seemed right to call him Sir. He just commanded that kind of respect, though I wasn't afraid of him - more intimidated, maybe. Brian didn't say anything else, so I said, "but I have no intention of being seen with Ringo - him and me..." I bit my lip, "we just don't work."

Brian sighed. "I don't care if you work or not," he said, "just don't get in the way of his career."

I nodded. As rude as Brian was being, I knew that he had a point and that he was simply trying to do the best for John, Paul, George and Ringo -  _ The Beatles  _ \- that he could. 

Brian stood up to leave the room but stopped as he reached the door. He turned back to me, slowly. "You can watch from backstage if you want." Brian offered, taking the cigar from his mouth and letting the smoky air out into the room. I coughed as quietly as I could as I inhaled the smoke.

"Thank you," I said politely. I left the room after Brian.

* * * * *

The show was amazing. They all played wonderfully, though it was very easy to hear the beginnings of Beatlemania, here. The girls were screaming - I could hardly hear the music. I knew from documentaries on TV in my time that there would be shows when  _ The Beatles  _ couldn't even hear their own instruments.

But the boys were magnificent. They gave their all for that Blackpool audience, and I had no doubt that they did it for every audience. I wished that I had a camera so I could snap a photo and keep it forever, but I had not brought my phone back with me (and even if I had, I doubted that I would have dared to use it), and I didn't have a camera in 1963. I turned around, wondering if there were any photographers present, and I stopped.

There was a camera sitting on the table behind me.

I could have sworn that it wasn't there moments ago when I had first taken my position in the eaves of the stage.

My eyes darted round to see if I could see anybody who might own the camera, but there was nobody - well, there was, but they were focused on their tasks.

I went over to the camera, picked it up and put the strap around my neck. Quickly, I hurried back to the side of the stage and snapped the photos that I wanted. I made a mental note to myself to remove the film before I went back home and to replace the camera.

When the show ended, John was first off the stage. He pushed past me - purposely barging me out of his way - and hurried off (to the dressing room, presumably). Then it was Paul and George, who both greeted me with a smile. I gave them one in return.

And then Ringo came over to me.

"Did you like the show?" He asked me excitedly, sweating in his Beatles suit and thick mop-top haircut. I nodded eagerly.

"I loved it!" I exclaimed, "it was awesome!"

He cocked his head at me.

"Oh, um... it means that it's great."

"Oh!" Ringo chuckled, "awesome, then!"

I giggled and threw my arms around him.

"Hey!" Ringo exclaimed, causing me to take a step back and remove my arms from his neck where I had thrown them, "what's this, then?"

He gestured to the camera. I took it off and put it in his outstretched hand. "I found it." I told him. "Just there." I turned to gesture to the table, but it was gone.

"Hmm," he hummed as his ringed fingers moved around the camera, turning it this way and that and looking it over. "A camera... Elsie had one of these a few years ago - I wonder whose it is...?" 

"Nobody claimed it, and it was just sitting on a table," I told him.

He handed it back to me. "Well, you can have it now, birdie."

"Really!?" I asked excitedly in disbelief. Ringo nodded and looped an arm around my shoulders. 

Ringo nodded, "o'course. Nobody here has a use for it, do they?" He led me down the halls of the Queen's Theatre. "Is film even developed where you're from?" He asked me.

"It is," I explained, "but it's quite rare and expensive to get done. To be honest, I don't even know where I  _ could  _ get film developed in 2020."

Ringo took the camera from my hands and popped the film out effortlessly. He pocketed it. "Leave it with me and I'll get it done for you." He promised.

"How long will it take?"

"About a week -"

I sighed. "Ringo, my university course starts in six days!" I reminded him. "I can't stay around for a week just to get some pictures back -"

"So stay around for a week for me, then." Ringo led me into a room. It was a lot smaller than the dressing room, but it had a settee in it and a desk. I sat at one end of the settee and he sat close beside me, just like he had at George's house.

"I can't."

"But we're having fun here, Ellie." Ringo said in a pleading tone. "Besides, this is an experience for you - you get to see us perform, and -"

"You're so conceited, Ringo!"

He blushed. "What does that mean?"

"It means that you're full of yourself!" I exclaimed, conscious that we didn't need anybody else to overhear our conversation. I sighed again, "you're not even at the top yet -"

"Yet?" He asked excitedly. "Does that mean that we make it, then?"

I pursed my lips.

"You might as well tell me now, Luv. I already think that we do, so -"

"Fine." I snapped. "Yes, you make it. You're the biggest band in the world, and that hasn't changed by 2020!" The glee in his face was adorable, and I wish that I had allowed myself to enjoy it before I continued, "but I have a  _ life  _ in 2020, and I don't have one in 1963! I want to go home and do journalism - I want to be the top of Fleet Street by the time I'm twenty-three, writing music articles for all the top magazines -"

"But you can do that here, can't you?" Ringo begged shamelessly. "Stay here with us - if we make it like you say we do, then we'll pay for you to go to university -  _ I'll pay _ ."

I got off of the settee and looked at him once again, sadly. "Ringo, I have to go home." I sighed. "I don't want to, but 1963 isn't my life. It's  _ your _ 's."

"But we haven't got another show in Liverpool booked!" Ringo whined, "El, don't leave. I don't know when I'll see you again!"

"I have to," I repeated. "I'm sorry, Rings."

"My name is Ritchie," Ringo said quietly, looking down at his lap. "Richard Starkey. Ritchie, or Ritch... only strangers and the lads call me Rings." He sounded so sad. It broke my heart to hear him speak like that. "Please," he continued in a desperate tone, "call me Ritchie."

I nodded, tears in my eyes as I leant down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you soon."

Ringo didn't respond. I went to leave, but he caught my hand. In surprise, I turned back to him. "August 11th." He said. I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut me off. "That's our next show in Blackpool... will you be here?" I nodded. He looked so desperate that it was difficult not to. "Meet me in the alley behind the ABC Theatre," he said, "that's where the next concert will be."

"But I can't control where I end up, I think."

"Just get here," Ringo said. "We go on at about six, but I will wait in that alley all day until you arrive. 

I nodded again, silently promising him. "Bye, Ritchie," I said in a voice barely more audible than a whisper as he let go of my hand.

"Goodbye, birdie." I heard him reply as I left the room, leaving the door open behind me.

As soon as I found my way outside, I saw that I was in an alley. A back alley, by the looks of it. I reached up to finger my locket and took a deep breath as the world started to spin and the wind picked up. I was swept off of my feet before I landed on the floor of my bedroom in Michelle's house, tears running down my face as I remembered the blue eyes which had gazed at me what seemed like seconds before.


	13. Chapter 13

On the first day of university, exactly seven days after I had met Ringo Starr, but six days after I had left him, I was woken up with the delicious smell of pancakes. I got dressed in dark denim jeans and a white broderie puff sleeve peplum top. I wore my white trainers and brushed my hair into a sixties-style like I had had that day when I had seen my first Beatles concert. I put mascara and a deep red lipstick on and packed a notepad, pencil case and phone charger into a little backpack. 

I went downstairs. Lucy and Michelle were both there eating. Lucy smiled as I came into the room, "I made you some pancakes. I also thought that we could walk to classes together since we're in the same one?"

Ah yes, I had forgotten about that.

Lucy and I were both taking journalism at Liverpool John Moores University.

It's not that I didn't like Lucy - in fact, I liked her more than I liked Michelle. Lucy was kinder, more thoughtful, and a lot more approachable - but I was more of a lone wolf.

Nevertheless, I decided that it might do me some good to have a friend on the first day, so I nodded, putting on the most genuine smile that I could. "That sounds nice, Luce," I told her as I took the warm pancakes from the pan and then put them onto a plate, covering them in sugar and lemon juice before I cut up a banana to put on the top.

I sat next to Lucy, who was sitting beside Michelle.

"Michelle doesn't start until tomorrow, so she is going to do the washing up for us, aren't you?" Michelle nodded and continued eating, flicking through her phone with one hand and spooning the food into her mouth with another.

We chatted a little until it was time to go, and then we dumped our plates in the sink. It seemed like a warm August day and I was sure that I would not need my denim jacket, but Lucy insisted that I take it. So I did.

We walked the fifteen minutes to LJMU in silence - or rather, I did, and Lucy talked at me. She was sweet. I wondered if I could one day bring myself to like her as more than a convenience friend.

We got to the lecture room and went in, taking a seat on the last two seats on the right of the top row. Everybody else who filed in didn't sit at the top as we did; they sat in the lower rows instead, which I was grateful for.

The professor arrived and introduced himself as Richard Young. His name made me think of  _ my  _ Richard. My Ritchie. My Ringo. My heart ached at the thought of him in 1963 without me by his side, and for a few moments, I considered ditching class and running back to Admiral Grove so that I could slip back in time and sit beside the drummer once more.

But somebody at the front of the room kept me from leaving. Two boys - I suppose they were men, really - walked in. One had dark, olive skin and brown hair, and the other was a dark-haired boy with pale white skin.

They didn't apologise to the professor for being late; instead, they made their way up the aisle and sat directly in front of Lucy and me. The professor, unfazed by their late entrance, continued introducing himself and the classes which we would be taking and what stuff we would be covering.

One of the boys turned around. It was the pale one. "Hey, girls." He smirked at me, and then Lucy.

"Hello," Lucy answered politely.

"Do either of you have a pencil I can borrow? And some paper?"

Lucy dug around in her handbag for the things which the boy had asked for. She handed them over and he smiled, "thanks... I'm Zak, by the way."

"This is my roommate, Eleanor, and I'm Lucy." She gestured to each of us as she introduced us.

I sighed. Why did she have to tell him my name?

"Something wrong, Eleanor?" Zak asked.

"I'm trying to listen to the professor," I answered in a voice that implied my answer should have been obvious.

"Why?"

"Because he's speaking," I answered the annoying boy in front of me.

Zak turned back to the front for a few seconds before he turned back to Lucy and me, "oh yeah," he said as if he hadn't noticed the sound of the professor's voice before, "so he is." He nudged the boy next to him, "fancy that, Zeke."

"Zak and Zeke?" Lucy asked sarcastically. "Those are your names?"

Zeke, the olive-skinned boy, smiled at Lucy. I noticed that her neck turned pink when he did that. I groaned inwardly. If Zeke and Lucy got on then it was likely that the two boys would attach themselves to us. Great. Terrific.

"I'm Zachary, and he's Zecheriah."

"I'll just call you dumb and dumber." I snapped. The two boys stared at me, their mouths open in surprise. Lucy was blushing a deep red. For a split second, I felt bad for making her feel embarrassed, and then I remembered the two imbeciles who were trying to attach themselves to us.

"Look," Zak said, gesturing to Zeke to turn around so that he was facing the professor, "I think we got off on the wrong seat. I'm sorry. Let's start again, eh?"

His smile... there was something familiar about it. I found myself unable to do anything but nod. "I'm Eleanor," I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.

"Zak." Our hands met and we both looked down at them.


	14. Chapter 14

Lucy knocked on my door but didn't wait for me to say that she could come in. "Hey!" She exclaimed, bounding across the floor and plopping down on my bed. I groaned, rolling over and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Luce?" I asked, "what time is it?"

She was already dressed.

"Eleven." 

"I don't have a class today," I told her. "Why are you -"

"You said yesterday that you'd meet Zak at the cafe on Penny Lane."

I groaned. Penny Lane.

But Zak, contrary to my first impression of him, was actually really funny. Lucy and I had had lunch with Zeke and him yesterday after our first official journalism lecture, and it had gone well. In fact, it had gone so well that Zak had asked me to meet him for lunch. I had agreed, though all the while I had had one thought at the back of my mind.

_ Tomorrow is the day you're going to see Ringo again _ .

And now tomorrow was here, and tonight I would see Ringo, and the other Beatles, again. 

I knew that I had to meet Ringo in Blackpool at the ABC Theatre as we had agreed - it wouldn't take me long to get from Liverpool to Blackpool, and the show didn't start until six. I had confidence that I could meet Zak for lunch, get back and get changed, go back in time and then get to Blackpool before then. No problem.

"Right," I said, sitting up. "Of course - how stupid of me to forget." Lucy smiled and left the room so I could get dressed.

When I was ready to go, I went downstairs. Lucy was watching something on the television, so I said goodbye and then went to put my white trainers on - I'd left them in the porch, previously.

I walked to Penny Lane, though I avoided walking the way which would have brought me past the antique shop - I didn't want to know if it existed or not. I wanted to forget about that whole night, to be honest... apart from when I had gone back in time and met  _ The Beatles _ .

Zak was sitting at the counter of the American-style diner on Penny Lane. I went in and the little bell above the door rung to announce my arrival. Zak turned and a smile lit up his face. He waved me over to him. I went and sat on the stool beside his one. "You want something to drink?" He asked me.

"A coke, please." He gestured to his own drink, a coke, and held up two fingers. The waitress nodded and went off to get the drinks. 

He turned back to me. "I thought you weren't coming for a few minutes, there."

"If I say I'm going to turn up, then I will." I paused, "how long have you been here, anyway?"

"I, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. As he lifted his arm, the sleeve of his t-shirt rode up a little and I could see the bottom of a tattoo. I was intrigued, and I wanted to ask about it, but I didn't because he continued to speak, "I've been here for about an hour - I thought you might show up early and we could maybe spend some more time together."

"Oh." I felt bad now for being late. "Well..." I bit my lip. I could think of one proposal, but just how close could I cut it to  _ The Beatles _ ' showtime? "I could stay for a little bit after lunch?"

He grinned. "I'd like that."

So we ordered food and talked and ate and then talked some more.

"Do you want to maybe go for a walk?" I nodded. Zak got off of the stool and waited for me to do the same. We walked side-by-side out of the diner and down the street, luckily not in the direction of the mythed antique store.

* * * * *

"Fancy dinner?" Zak asked as we left the bench we'd been sitting on and continued walking around Liverpool.

"What time is it?" I asked, realising that I hadn't checked the time in a while. Perhaps it was the long summer day which had confused me - it was still warm and bright outside. The sun was still shining - it could only be four or five o'clock, couldn't it?"

Zak checked his phone, "it's six-thirty."

"Six-thirty?!" I exclaimed in horror. I stopped in the middle of the street.

"Are you going to turn into a pumpkin at seven, Cinderella?" Zak teased.

I felt like crying - there was no way I could make it to Ringo - and Blackpool - now. He'd be on stage at six-thirty, and after that, he would probably think that I'd stood him up. Blackpool was an hour and a half car journey, anyway! There was no way that I would catch him.

With a deflated heart, I said, "Zak, could you walk me home?"

"Sure, but -"

"I just... I missed something that I said I would do for somebody, and I need to get back to sort it out." I told him simply. He nodded and I began to lead him in the direction of Admiral Grove.

I refused to ask Zak into the house, even though Lucy pressed me to - Michelle was out, apparently.

But he was the reason that I had missed my evening with Ringo and the rest of  _ The Beatles _ , so I wasn't very happy with him. I shut the door in his face and stormed into the kitchen to get myself a glass of juice.

"What was that about?" Lucy asked, following me into the kitchen.

"What was what about?" I tried to play dumb, but I knew that it was no use.

"Um, hmm," she answered sarcastically, " _ let me think _ \- maybe the way you just slammed the door in Zak's face!?"

I turned to her, "I was supposed to someone somewhere tonight and I completely forgot!"

"So just ring whoever it was you were supposed to meet and apologise for being late -"

"No!" I snapped. I began to cry. "It's not as easy as that, Lucy, it's...  _ complicated _ ."

That was the understatement of the year.

Lucy sighed and came over to me, wrapping her arms around my body and gently pressing my head into her shoulder. She was about a head shorter than me so it was awkward for me to have to bend my neck... but we made it work.

And being held by Lucy was actually... nice.

I realised that in the week and a bit that I had known her, I actually  _ liked  _ Lucy. She was sweet, and kind and always did her best for others. She was exactly the kind of person that I had aspired to be, once upon a time.

She soothed me until I stopped crying. "We'll sort it out." She promised.

I nodded, wiping the tears from my face. "I'm going to bed," I told her.

"Okay, dear." She smiled. "Sleep tight - are you sure you'll be okay?"

I nodded. She waved me up the stairs as if she were my parent. I loved it.

I laid in my bed, my eyes wet once again. I had no idea why I was crying because Lucy had calmed me down - but then I thought of Ringo, probably waiting all alone in that alley for somebody who was never coming, and I cried harder.

Finally, I made up my mind. I had to find a way to see him again - even if it meant travelling to London, Glasgow or Cardiff. I had to apologise, explain and just  _ see  _ him again.

I took my laptop out and googled  _ The Beatles _ ' live performances. There was an entire Wikipedia page for it. I scrolled to today's date in 1963 - 11th August - and saw that, indeed, they were recorded to have played the ABC Theatre in Blackpool. And then I scrolled down, wondering if they came back to Blackpool.

25th August and they would be back.

I knew that I had to go and see Ringo on that day. Fourteen days from now.

I was confident that he would be staying with his mum and stepdad on the night before, so I was fairly certain that I could somehow intercept him there. I set a reminder on my phone because I wouldn't forget again. 

I crawled back into bed, resting more easily when I thought of the blue eyes that I would soon see again.


	15. Chapter 15

Two weeks passed. Fourteen days.

They were the slowest two weeks of my life... but I threw myself into university, and I was ahead on all of my assignments - well, only two had been set so far.

And I ignored Zak.

Whether it was my fault or his that I had missed the time that day we had been out was irrelevant, but I didn't need him in my life.

On the 25th of August 2020, the alarm on my phone rang at eleven AM. I got out of bed and went to get ready for the amazing day ahead... but I was prepared this time. I had been scouring the shops and streets of Liverpool for money which I would be able to spend in 1963 - I had had little success, but I had found several lovely sixties outfits. I had bought them, washed them and cleaned them up a little. I put one on now; a royal blue wiggle-style dress with a black velvet belted bow around the hips. It was a little tight on me, but I thought that it was flattering on my figure. I also had purchased a pair of black strappy stilettos, something which I was fairly sure they didn't have in 1963, but I couldn't bring myself to care - I knew that I looked good, and I wanted Ringo to see that.

I went back into my room and braided my hair into a plait - it reached more than halfway down my back. I applied deep red lipstick and mascara, just like I had on the first day of university. I took the photo album from its hiding place - I had no idea what would happen if Lucy or Michelle got their hands on it, so I had wrapped it in a bath towel and put it at the back of the built-in wardrobe. I locked the bedroom door and then went to sit on the bed. I carefully took the towel away from the album and then opened it. The first two photos; the one of the band and I in the Harrisons' living room and then one which looked like it had been taken on the camera which I had had in Blackpool, were useless. I turned the page and saw the perfect photo.

It was of Ringo and his mother and his stepdad. I took a deep breath and stroked the photo, my hand slipping into it as I was swept off of the bed and up in the whirlwind which was carrying me back in time.

I landed upright, surprisingly. I was standing outside of Ringo's house - 10 Admiral Grove - where the photograph in the album had been taken. I looked down at my hand. The towel which had been wrapped around the photo album was still clutched in my fist. I dropped it and gasped.

So  _ that  _ was how I got things back in time with me. 

I made a mental note of how to bring things back to the 1960s, and then I took a deep breath. I walked up the path and knocked on the door.

It was past midday, so I was sure that Elsie and Harry Graves would be up - and I hoped that Ringo would be there, too. I waited on the doorstep, nervously shifting my weight from foot to foot until I heard the lock of the door being undone. The handle went down and the door opened.

"Birdie?" Ringo said in surprise and amazement as he stood in the doorway, the door handle still clutched in his hand.

"Oh, Ritchie," I said, suddenly bursting into tears. I threw myself at him. Ringo caught me in his strong drummer's arms and wrapped them around me, pulling me to him. We were exactly the same height... it was perfect. "I'm so sorry!" I cried, "I have to explain, I -"

"Who is this, Ritchie?" I looked away from Ringo's shoulder where I had rested my head and saw a woman in her mid-fifties standing further down the hallway, her arms crossed against her chest.

Ringo pulled away from me and turned to the woman, "this is my friend," he said. My heart hurt when I heard him call me that.  _ Of course _ , I thought,  _ I'm just a friend _ . "Eleanor." Ringo finished.

"Well," the woman said kindly, uncrossing her arms, "invite her in, dear. Don't be rude."

"Yes, Elsie." He nodded and the woman disappeared into one of the rooms coming off the hallway. 

Ringo sighed, "that's my mum." He told me. "Do you want to come in? Mum's cooking this big dinner, and -"

I beamed at him. "I'd love to," I told him. "But there's something that I need to do first."

"What's that?" He asked me curiously.

"Is there an antique shop on Penny Lane?" Ringo thought for a second and then nodded. "I have to go there."

"Why?"

"I'll explain on the way," I promised him. I went to leave the house, but Ringo caught hold of my hand. He squeezed it quickly and that stopped me. I turned back to him, but he let go, grabbing a large brown overcoat from the coat hanger by the door.

"Elsie, Ellie and me are just popping over to Penny Lane!"

"Okay, Ritchie!" Came the reply, "see you in a little bit!" Ringo put the coat on and then looked at my outfit. His mouth fell open.

"Wow," he said. I felt my face growing hot. "You look amazing - I love that dress."

"I found it in 2020," I told him quietly, hoping that Elsie or his stepdad, Harry, didn't overhear us. "Do you like it?"

He nodded eagerly and ushered me away from the door of the house so that he could step out and close it behind him.

When he had done that, we began to walk out of the front garden - which was paved, like a driveway might have been in 2020... but there was no car. From the little which I knew of the sixties and post-war Britain, I knew that not many people could afford a car, and I assumed that that was the case of the Starkey-Graves family.

As we went to turn right towards Penny Lane, Ringo grabbed my hand and laced it with his own. I looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled... and so did I.


	16. Chapter 16

As we walked, I explained the reason for my trip to Penny Lane.

"I got to 1963 because I was given a photo album by a lady in the antique shop on Penny Lane in 2020," I told him. "She also gave me my mother's locket," I gestured to the necklace, not wanting to touch it in case I got sent back to the present time, "but the lady was old... like,  _ really  _ old... so I'm thinking that she still might own the antique shop in 1963, and maybe she'll remember me."

"Remember you?" Ringo raised an eyebrow. "But you haven't even been born yet, right?" I bit my lip. "I mean, when were you born?"

"2002."

"Exactly," Ringo said. "Your parents haven't even been born yet - the lady won't remember you, El." He paused, "besides, Mr Allerton owns the antique shop on Penny Lane, I think, and he is  _ definitely  _ no lady."

I sighed. "Well, we're almost there now, right?" He shrugged. "So we might as well give it a go."

"What if she is there?" He asked. "What if she does remember you? What if this is magic? What are you going to do, then?"

"I just want to ask her about the album," I told him. "How does it work, for example? Like, can I put any photos into the album and go back in time? Or does it only work with Beatles photographs? And what does my mum's locket have to do with anything?"

Ringo thought for a second before he asked, "why did you come back to Liverpool?"

"I go to school here, Ritchie." I reminded him.

"I mean 1963." He sighed. "You didn't show up that day, El. I waited  _ all day  _ for you, and you just... you just didn't appear."

"I know." I hung my head in shame, secretly delighting in the fact that he was still holding my hand. "And I want to tell you why."

He snorted, "that'd be nice."

"Ritch," I warned him, "please don't be angry at me." I didn't mean that what I was about to say would make him angry (though it probably would), but rather I meant that I didn't want him to snort at me. "I met this guy at my university. His name's Zak... he asked me to meet him for lunch, and we just... we just got carried away."

Ringo let go of my hand. "Oh..." he said quietly. "So..."

"I'm sorry," I said earnestly. "I wanted to come to Blackpool to see you - honestly, I did... but time got away from us, and -"

"I get it." Ringo interrupted in a bitter tone of voice. "It's  _ Zak _ that you'd rather spend time with... not me."

He hung his head.

"Ritchie, no!" I exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the path so that other people had to walk around us. "That's not it," I promised him, hesitantly putting a hand on one side of his jaw so I could bring his gaze from the ground and to me. "I promise you, I wanted to meet you in the alley, and I had every intention of doing it... but by the time I noticed how late it was, you would have been on stage already - and that was without it taking me almost two hours to get over to Blackpool."

His blue eyes were brimming with tears.

"So you didn't even try?" He asked quietly.

"Ritchie, I wanted to try, really... but I couldn't have done it, logistically, and I had no idea whether you'd wait for me afterwards or not." Ringo didn't say anything else. Instead, he walked around me and carried on, not looking back.

It took me a solid minute to steel myself enough to finish the walk to Penny Lane by myself. When I got there, I saw the familiar antique shop sign. I went into the shop. It was exactly as it had been the first time I had been there, right down to the smell. As far as I could tell, there was not one mirror or warped vinyl record out of place.

I went to the counter, ringing the bell repeatedly like I had done the last time. "Alright!" The voice was familiar.

The old woman who had greeted me in 2020 was here, in 1963, and her eyes lit up in recognition. "Eleanor!" she greeted me brightly as if she had not been expecting my visit. I was almost certain that she had.

"Tell me who you are," I demanded immediately. "How do you know who I am and where did you get my mother's locket? Why did you give me the photo album, and how does it work?"

The woman chuckled. "So many questions..."

"I'm not in the mood for riddles." 

"I had a young man in here just moments ago asking similar things." The old woman continued, ignoring my words, "he said that he needed the answers for a friend of his." She looked directly into my eyes. "He said that the  _ friend  _ was quite important to him."

My heart stopped. There was only one person she could mean.

Ritchie.

"Just answer the questions," I told her. "How did the antique shop get to 2020 when it is supposed to have burnt down? How do you know me now if this is the past?"

The woman smiled. "Come with me." She turned and waved to me over her shoulder. I was helpless to resist her. I followed her into the back room, through the doorway behind the counter. She led me into a large storage room and then to the back of it, through another door. Through the door was a large room with a concrete floor, though it was mostly covered by one large red Persian rug. There were more Persian rugs hung up around the walls as if they were wallpaper. There was no furniture in the room, just several flat-looking cushions arranged in a circle in the middle of the room.

"Ritchie!" I exclaimed in delight when I saw him sitting there. I practically dove onto the floor to be beside him. Our disagreement (argument?) on the street had put me at odds, and I was already so glad to be given the chance to reconcile with him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "She said that we had to wait for you to get here before she would answer the questions that I had."

The old woman had taken a seat opposite Ringo and I. Her eyes were closed and her hands were resting on her knees as if she were meditating.

I turned back to Ringo, "well I'm here now." He smiled at that. "And I'm sorry for earlier."

"So am I."

"Ritch, we need to have a long and hard talk about our different lives... that is if you're serious about it?"

"About what?" He smirked, obviously just wanting me to say the words.

"About  _ us _ ."

"I'm deadly serious." He promised. "And I want to have that talk - but now isn't the time." I agreed with him and sat down, crossing my legs delicately as I leant a little closer to Ringo than a friend might to another friend.

"Answer our questions," I said in an authoritative tone to the old woman. Her eyes opened and she smiled at us. It was oddly chilling.

She nodded once. "Ask away."

"Who are you?" I said.

"I am Annabelle." She answered simply.

"Mr Allerton owns this shop," Ringo said, "so where is he, and why are you here now?"

"Mr Allerton is away," Annabelle answered. "I am here to see Eleanor, and to answer her questions, Mr Starkey." She paused, "I will not answer any more of your's."

I cleared my throat. "My roommates told me that the antique shop in Penny Lane burnt down in 2018," I paused, "how is it possible that I was in there?"

"The shop is, for want of a simpler way of putting it," Annabelle paused for effect, "a time slip."

"You mean that I went back in time?" I raised an eyebrow. Annabelle nodded.

"I should think that you're used to it by now," the old woman replied, "why is it so difficult to believe?"

I decided not to answer her question. Instead, I asked, "why did you give me my mother's locket, and how did you get it?"

"I gave it to you because you needed something to ground you to 2020... to bring you back."

Well, that made enough sense. "The locket was buried with my father," I told her. "How did you get it?" I repeated my previous question.

"I knew your parents." I sucked in my breath and widened my eyes at this. Ringo joined one of his ringed hands with mine and gave it a quick squeeze, silently reassuring me that he was beside me for support.

"How?"

"Your mother, Victoria, came into the antique shop quite often. Your father, Charles -"

"Charlie." I corrected her, knowing that my father had hated his birth name and had always used his nickname if he could.

" _ Charles _ ," she over-pronounced his first name, "came to me the day she died and asked me to bring her back. He had brought the locket with him for me to use to do it... He mentioned that he had a daughter and that the little girl - you, Eleanor - should not have to grow up without a mother."

I was weeping silently. Ringo had wrapped an arm around my shoulders, but I moved no closer to him. This was something that I had to hear on my own.

"So you're a witch, then?"

Annabelle shot Ringo a look. He didn't press the question. I didn't repeat his question - quite honestly, I didn't care what she was - I cared only that she had known my parents.

"I told him that it was difficult to do such a thing... impossible, even... and certainly not worth even attempting because it never ended well." Annabelle paused. "And so your father accepted that you'd be without a mother... but he begged me to give you somebody so that you weren't alone."

"And did you?" I asked her in a quiet tone, so entranced by the story that I didn't even realise that the answer was staring me right in the face.

"I gave you the photo album, didn't I?" Annabelle paused. "But there's a way things must be done - and you had to come to Liverpool to get the book. I couldn't give it to you, and neither could Charles or anybody else. You had to come for it of your own accord." She paused again, clicking her fingers once before she continued, "and you did! And here you are right now with Richard Starkey, looking as if he's ready to take on the Nemean Lion for you!" 

I turned to Ringo. He was frozen. I had only just noticed. "When did that...?" I gestured to him.

"A click of the fingers, Eleanor, dear," Annabelle assured me. "He'll be fine. He's just caught in between seconds at the moment. He can't hear you or me, and he won't remember the time which he spends in this state."

I nodded and asked, "so you  _ gave  _ me Ringo?"

"I altered the timeline... your father insisted. He knew the risks."

"What were the risks?" Did I really want to know?

"A considerably shorter life." I gasped as a horrific sob made its way up my throat. "Yes, dear," Annabelle continued, "Charles Raymond Minter gave it all up for  _ you _ , his only daughter."

"So... what happens with me and Ringo?"

"Well," Annabelle smiled, almost  _ kindly _ , "that is entirely up to the two of you. Your father simply got you here -  _ gave you him _ ."

"Do I have to stay in 1963? Will my dad be alive again if I choose to never come back?" It was something that I would seriously consider.

"No." The old woman answered simply. "Your father is gone, and I'm sorry about that, but he did it for you. He won't come back - not in this lifetime, anyway."

"How does the time travel thing work?"

"Spend as much time in the past as you want and no time will pass in the present. Spend a day in the present and there will be a day gone past."

I nodded, thinking over what she had just said. It made sense. "So I can stay here for a week and I won't have missed any school?"  _ University, Ellie _ , I chided myself.

Annabelle nodded. "That's how it works."

I looked at Ringo and bit my life, "can you unfreeze him now, or whatever it is that you need to do?"

Annabelle clicked her fingers and Ringo suddenly started breathing again. I wondered if his heart had stopped whilst he was 'between seconds'.

"Do you have the answers that you needed?" I thought for a second and then nodded. I couldn't think of anything else.

"Yes," I told her.

"Then leave. Elsie is plating dinner as we speak."

"Hang on," Ringo said, "how do you -"

Annabelle shot him another look and he cut himself off. I stood up, "come on, Ritchie." I held out a hand for him to take. He joined our hands and I pulled him up. He grinned as I kept our hands together. "Thank you, Annabelle," I said, meaning it. "c-can I come back if I need to - if I have more questions?"

"You are welcome anytime, Eleanor Minter." Annabelle looked at Ringo, "and so is he... it was interesting to watch him in between."

I knew what she meant, but Ringo didn't. He looked very awkward, but replied, "thank you... it was, um, nice to meet you?"

"How far are we from Admiral Grove?" I asked him.

"About forty minutes, I reckon." He replied.

"We'd better hurry then." And we left the shop.


	17. Chapter 17

When we made it back to Admiral Grove and Ringo's house, I stopped him. I pointed to number forty-two, which would be Michelle's house - my house, also - in 2020.

"That's where I live in 2020," I told him. "I live with two other girls; Michelle and Lucy."

Ringo smiled at me, "why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to trust me."

Ringo's smile grew. "Are you hungry?" I nodded and he led me up a back alley which led round to some gardens. He walked me along them and then stopped, going through a gate and up a garden which looked overgrown. "Come 'ead." He waved me up after him. I followed the path which he had just made through the grass. He stopped at the backdoor of the house, and then he turned to me. "I want to have that talk with you."

I nodded. "We will," I promised. 

Ringo opened the backdoor and gestured for me to follow him inside. There was nobody in the kitchen, which the door opened into, but we could hear the radio on in the living room. Ringo went to stand in the doorway to the living room and I joined him. Elsie and Harry were sitting in there, a cup of tea each, talking about something which they had heard on the radio. Ringo cleared his throat which alerted their attention to us. They both turned and smiled.

"We didn't think you'd be back before Blackpool," Harry said by way of a greeting.

"As if I'd go without saying ta," Ringo replied as he went into the room - and pulled me with him, our hands now entwined once more.

Elsie and Harry saw that we were attached but didn't say anything. Elsie just raised an eyebrow.

Ringo sat on the settee and pulled me down with him. I landed in his lap and was unable to help a giggle escaping, but I quickly climbed off of him and sat close beside him, instead.

"So," Elsie said, somewhat awkwardly. "Do the two of you want dinner? I'm afraid that we already ate without you, but -"

"Yes please, Elsie," Ringo confirmed, glancing at me for confirmation.

"Dinner would be lovely, thank you, Mrs Graves." I smiled.

Elsie smiled, "Elsie is fine... Eleanor, was it?"

I nodded. "Eleanor... or Ellie is good, too."

Elsie nodded and went to go and get our dinner ready. That left us alone with Harry.

"So are you two friends, or...?" Harry gestured between the two of us.

Ringo's mouth opened and closed because he was speechless, but I just smiled and replied, "we're only friends,  _ at the moment _ ."

I had wanted to keep my distance from Ringo, but I was finding it impossible - my every thought was him, whether I was in 2020 or 1963... and from what Annabelle had told us, it seemed like we were meant to be together.

"Ah..." Harry trailed off. There was a little bit of tension in the room, but Harry asked, "so how did the two of you meet? It's not very often that my son brings a girl home for us to meet -"

"Aha," Ringo laughed slightly uncomfortably, "well I didn't  _ exactly  _ bring this one home," he teased, turning to me, "but she lives close by, and found her way here."

I nodded in agreement. "Ritchie, John, Paul and George found me in the alley outside of the Cavern," I explained, "I think that I'd had... I'd had an  _ accident  _ of some sort," I shot a glance at Ringo, "and they were kind enough to help me."

Elsie came in with two plates in her hands and handed one to each of us. I thanked her. 

"Hear that, El?" Harry asked his wife, "Ritchie rescued her from the alley of the Cavern."

"Oh, I  _ do _ hate that place!" Elsie exclaimed as she sat back down in the armchair which she had been in previously. "Well, Eleanor, I'm glad that you're okay - and that our boy was there to save you!"

"He did indeed." I smiled, looking into Ringo's beautiful blue eyes momentarily before I snapped back to reality. 

"So what time is the show tonight?" Harry asked, finishing off his cup of tea and placing the teacup on the floor at his feet.

"It starts at seven." Ringo said, "a little later than usual."

"Is Neil coming to pick you up?" Elsie asked kindly.

"No," Ringo shook his head, "I thought we'd make our own way there - it's only Blackpool, so it shouldn't take too long." He turned to me, "does that sound alright to you, birdie?"

I nodded and beamed at him. "Are we getting the train?"

"We're going to drive there." Elsie and Harry exchanged worried glances. "Oh come off it, you two," Ringo said, now speaking to his parents.

"Richard," his mother said in a disapproving tone of voice, "you haven't passed your test yet - are you sure it's safe?"

" _ And  _ you don't have a car." Harry pointed out.

"I can drive just fine." Ringo assured his mother. "And there's a lad 'round the corner who said he'd lend me his car for the evening."

Elsie sighed. "Just be careful, dear."

* * * * *

When it came to leaving, Ringo said that he was going to give the boy a call who was going to lend us his car.

I went with him to make the call because the Starkey-Graves household didn't have a phone, so Ringo had to go next door to use the neighbour's phone. It blew my mind how not everybody had a phone because I knew that 2020 was so different.

Ringo knocked on the door. A girl, about Ringo's age, opened it. She beamed. "Ritchie!" She threw her arms around his neck and attached herself to him. I was standing slightly behind Ringo. I looked down at the floor feeling like I was intruding. However, Ringo quickly detached the girl from him. 

"Reckon I could borrow your phone, Deb?"

"Who's this, Ritchie?" The girl, Deb, asked, ignoring his question.

"This is Ellie." He gestured to me. "A close friend of mine."

Deb shot him a glare. "A  _ personal  _ friend?"

Ringo looked uncomfortable. He laced his hand with mine to reassure me. "None of your business anymore, is it?" The tension in the air was so thick that it could have been cut with a knife. Deb was seething, obviously. I realised that she and Ringo must have dated at some point - or at least had a 'thing'.

"Why do you need to use the phone?"

"To call somebody." Ringo answered in an unamused tone, "now can we use it or not?"

"Is  _ she  _ going to use it?" Deb shot me a glare. Ringo pulled me closer to him, wrapping an arm around my waist to show how close we were to the outsider.

"Does it matter?" He retorted.

Deb thought for a second and then responded, "mum and daddy have had it removed. Sorry," she shot me another glare, "but no, you can't."

Ringo sighed and pulled me away from the house and back down the garden path. "Fucking liar." He muttered to himself.

"A friend of your's?" I asked him, hurrying to keep up with him as he strode down the street.

"An old girlfriend." He paused, stopping in the middle of the path. "We'll have to go and get the car ourselves."

He led me down a few roads and through a public park before he stopped outside a house. He went up to knock on the door. Immediately, it opened, a man a few years older than Ringo standing there.

"Thought you were going to call?"

"Had a bit of trouble with the phone." Ringo waved his hand to infer that it was nothing to speak about. "Can we still borrow the car, Al?"

Al looked over Ringo's shoulder and smirked when he saw me. "We, eh?" He teased. "Is that your bird, Ritch?"

Ringo turned to me briefly. I was standing at the front of the garden by the gate where Ringo had left me. "Yeah." I didn't bother correcting him.

"She's pretty."

"She is." Ringo agreed. "So can we borrow the car or not?"

"Can I borrow your girl?" Al asked slyly.

My eyes widened, and for a split second, I thought that Ringo was going to agree to it - but instead, he brought his fist back and then let it loose. It caught Al's nose. Immediately, blood started to pour from his nose and he shrieked out in pain. Al made no move to slow the flow of blood, but instead, he said, in a calm voice, "fucking divvy, get outta here."

Ringo bit his lip, turned and hurried back down the path towards me. When he reached me, he said, "I think we'll have to get the bus, El. Sorry -"

"It's fine," I assured him, kissing his cheek. "And thanks for defending me."

We walked down the road. I didn't dare glance behind us in case Al was still watching. "He insulted my girl."

"Your girl?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well you are, aren't you?" Ringo asked me in a slightly pleading tone, turning his head so he could look at me as we walked to the nearest bus station - which I was sure was at Penny Lane.

I turned to him and saw a glint in his eyes. I sighed. "We'll talk about it on the way."


	18. Chapter 18

We made it to Penny Lane just minutes before the bus which we needed left. Ringo paid the fare for both of us, which I felt a little bad about, and told me to go and sit down. I went to sit on the bottom level of the bus, but when Ringo came to join me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up to the top.

It wasn't an open-top bus. We sat at the back of the bus. He let me sit by the window, and as we drove through Liverpool and the little towns surrounding it and then into Blackpool, he pointed everything that he could out to me. He told me funny little anecdotes, and I could feel my heart falling further and further for him. Ringo Starr was truly amazing.

"So I have to ask," he said. I turned to him and saw that his endearing nose was so close to my own. Giggling, I leaned forward and pressed my nose against his. Ringo laughed and teasingly pushed me away. "You're a minx!" He chuckled.

"Ask me what, Ritchie?" I asked him, already knowing what he was going to say.

"About you being my girl..." he paused, "why did you say we'd talk about it later?"

I sighed, joining our hands together and then moving them so that they rested in my lap. Ringo looked down at them briefly, but his blue eyes quickly flickered back up to my brown ones. "Ritchie, I want to be your girl... you're my favourite Beatle, and you have been for years." He smiled a little at that. "But we're both from totally different times. It's like you said earlier; I'm not even supposed to be born yet."

"If you're saying it's the time which is stopping you, then don't -"

"Ritchie," I put my free hand to his face, somehow making the conversation between us all the more personal, "it's not the time difference... Annabelle told me that my father altered the timeline and gave up  _ years  _ from his life so that I could come back in time and meet you." Ringo was silent. "Which means that we're supposed to be together... but I have a life in 2020, and I'm not sure that I'd fit in here, with  _ you _ , in 1963."

"El, if you're supposed to be with me then surely it doesn't matter where we are? We could go to 2020 if you wanted to -"

"No!" I exclaimed. I wondered if the people on the bottom level of the bus could hear me. "You can't live in 2020 with me! Ritch, you and  _ The Beatles  _ are going to change the world forever. If I take you away from that, the world will be so different. So much music which exists in 2020 won't ever have happened because you all inspired them." I sighed. "You can't live in 2020, and I can't live here... not long term."

"But you can stay for a little while, can't you?" He asked in a desperate tone.

"I think that no time passes when I'm here," I told him. "I could spend a few days here and go home and not have missed any university."

"Does that mean that you're not going back tonight?"

"I'm not ready to stay." I paused. "I haven't got anything with me; no clothes, or my washbag, or -"

Ringo cut me off with a kiss on my lips. It was slow at first as if we were both savouring the moment, but then we became more eager and desperate for the other, and our mouths opened. Our tongues tangled together and fought for dominance, our hands grabbing at any part of each other that they could reach. I whimpered quietly as he nibbled at my lip. I could feel him smirk against my mouth before he pulled away.

He couldn't hide the smile on his face. "You didn't pull away."

"No," I replied, beaming.

"You said last time that it felt wrong... did that...?"

I shook my head and grabbed at the lapels on either side of his coat. I pulled him to me and kissed him again, not allowing the kiss to get too heated before I pulled away. "That didn't feel wrong," I promised him.

He grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. I had never seen somebody look so happy as he did at that moment.

"Does that mean that you'll be my girl?" I nodded eagerly. Ringo chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his chest. He hugged me tightly. 

* * * * *

We got off of the bus hand-in-hand. We walked to the theatre, aware that there were only about thirty minutes before Ringo was supposed to be on stage. "Will you be there after the show?" Ringo asked me as he led me to the back entrance of the theatre.

I nodded. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Ritchie," I promised.

"Good," he smirked, "I have a surprise for you -"

"And there he is, at last!" Paul McCartney threw up his arms as soon as he saw us walk through the back door of the theatre. The backstage area was just one large room, so there was no chance of privacy - though somebody had set up four settees in the corner of the room, all facing away from the rest of the room. It was like a private room within a larger one.

"I always show up, don't I?" Ringo said by way of a greeting to his friend.

"Not always with a pretty bird on your shoulder," Paul smirked. "It's nice to see you again, Eleanor."

To my surprise, he wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back, too - albeit a little awkwardly. I smiled when he pulled away, "and you, Paul."

Ringo let go of my hand, "can you watch my girl for a few, Paul?" Paul nodded. Ringo planted a soft kiss on my cheek, "I'm going to find Mal."

He left without another word from either of us.

Paul raised an eyebrow at me. "What!?" I laughed.

"Nothing," he chuckled, crossing his arms against his chest, "I just didn't think we'd see you again."

"Well I knew that I had to find Ritchie," I explained, "so I looked in the phone book and -"

"Well, you had to apologise, of course."

"For what?"

"For standing the lad up last time." Paul paused, "he had this night planned for the two of you, and you just... didn't show."

My guts churned. Now I felt even more guilty than I had done previously. I opened my mouth to answer, but Ringo cut me off.

"Here it is, then." He held the camera out to me. It was the same one which I had used the last time I had watched their concert.

I grinned and took it from him, "you still have it!"

"I got the film developed as well." He reached into the pocket of the coat which he had been wearing when we went to Penny Lane earlier and took something out, handing the package to me. 

Paul took this as his cue to leave. He gave me a little wave and told Ringo that he'd see him on stage before he left.

I grinned as I opened the box up and saw the photographs there, piled on top of one another. I had a quick flick through them. "They're amazing!"

"Your photography, birdie." Ringo took the camera from me so I could have a better look at the photographs. "Although," he said, reaching for one photo in particular, "I had a copy made of this one - for myself."

It was a photograph of Ringo and I standing in front of one another, obviously lost in conversation... but the way that we were staring into one another's eyes told a subtle story... one of desire and admiration for each other.

"I don't remember taking that one," I said, biting my lip as I took my copy of the photo from the box. "Weird."

"Maybe it's magic!" He whispered in my ear. "Like your witch friend!" 

The camera strap went around his neck and then his hands found their way to my hips. He dug them in, tickling me. I giggled. "Hey!" I yelped. He laughed and kissed my cheek. "I want to remember taking this picture..." I took the camera, leaving the strap around his neck and moved it far enough away from us that I was confident both of our heads would be in the shot. As I went to take the photo, Ringo wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me to him, pressing a soft, hot kiss to my cheek. I grinned, unable to remember a time when something had felt so right - I snapped the photograph. "Will you get that developed for me?" I asked, turning back to him and putting the camera down against his chest gently.

He nodded. "When will I see you again after tonight?" He asked me, not unreasonably.

"I hope so," I told him. "When are you in Blackpool again?"

"8th September... your birthday." He smirked. "And after that, we're off until the 13th... does that mean that you can stay?"

"And spend my birthday with you?" I paused for effect, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Boys! Showtime!" Brian Epstein's voice boomed out across the backstage area. Ringo turned to his manager for a few seconds before he turned back to me, took the camera strap from around his neck and put it around mine instead, and then kissed my lips quickly.

"See you afterwards."

And he dashed off to be the world's Beatle.


	19. Chapter 19

When I arrived back in 2020, I felt elated. Had all that  _ really  _ happened? Was I  _ really  _ Ringo's girlfriend, now?

That night, I crawled into my bed and slept with a smile on my face.

The next morning, I had a tutorial at university. I was running slightly late because I had overslept, so Lucy had already left - I had asked her after the incident with Zak on Penny Lane to not wake me up anymore.

"You're late, Eleanor." The professor, Mr Richard Young, said to me as soon as I walked into the lecture theatre.

Ah, Richard... my Ritchie... my Ringo.

"Yes, Sir," I agreed, trying to not turn bright red in front of fifty journalism students, all of whom had their eyes glued to me. "I'm sorry."

And I dashed off to sit beside Lucy in the back row.

Zeke was beside her on one side, and Zak was on her other side. Beside Zak was one seat - they'd obviously saved it for me. With a sigh, I sat in it.

"You overslept?" Lucy giggled quietly.

"It was worth it." I'd been having a dream about Ringo.

"Hey," Zak said awkwardly, "there's a party tonight in Woolton and I was thinking that we could go -"

"I have a boyfriend," I told him clearly but quietly, not wanting to attract Professor Young's attention to myself any further.

"Oh..." Zak trailed off, looking down at the counter in front of us which was intended for use as a desk, "well, just as friends, then?"

"I don't think tonight's a good idea," I told him, getting out my notepad and pen. I clicked the pen and tried to take notes from Professor Young.

After the tutorial had ended, I told Lucy that I was going to take a trip to Tesco. I wasn't particularly keen on the idea, but she insisted on coming with me. We got onto the bus and went to the nearest superstore.

"So what do you need here?" She asked me as we walked through the entrance, "it's Michelle's turn to get the shopping this week -"

"I need to get some photographs printed," I answered as I led her over to the photo shop part of the store.

"What kind of photographs?"

I turned to her. "Pornographic ones," I said shortly. "I'm going to distribute them around Liverpool and sell myself as a prostitute."

Lucy looked surprised. "Really?"

For a moment, I hesitated to give her a reply. I wanted to make her believe that I really was going to do as I said - though it sounded extremely unlikely. After a few seconds, I answered, "no."

She looked relieved. She bounded along beside me like a young puppy as I got to the photo shop, plugged my phone into one of the machines and then started to go through my camera roll, selecting every photo of Ringo which I had saved from Google the previous night.

"Ringo Starr?" She raised an eyebrow at me, "why the fascination?"

I shrugged. "He's my favourite Beatle."

"Aren't you a little old to be getting crushes on men who are, like, fifty years your senior?"

"Sixty." I corrected her, feeling a tug in my gut as I thought of the years between Ringo and I - but when we were in 1963, it all seemed so normal. "And no," I paused, "besides," I knew that the next part was going to kill me to say, "it's only a silly crush - innocent, really."

Lucy shrugged. "I suppose."

_ Oh, if only you knew. _

The photos were printed within the hour. I picked them up; all seventy-eight of them, and took them home with us.

* * * * *

"Do I  _ have  _ to go?" I whined as Lucy sat me in front of the vanity mirror in her room and did my makeup.

"Yes," Michelle answered from behind me as she scrolled through her phone.

"But you're not going." I pointed out, not unkindly.

"I have an essay to write -"

"But so do I." I pointed out.

Lucy giggled. "It's not due until Monday."

"I don't want to leave it to the last minute -"

"Zak will be there." 

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," I said quietly.

"So," Michelle smirked, getting up from Lucy's bed where she had been sitting and crossing the room to stand behind me, "I heard from a little birdie -"

I didn't hear what else she said.  _ Birdie _ . I smiled at the thought of Ritchie, and I wondered when I would see him again. I knew that I would have to wait until my birthday, but it seemed so far away. I sighed.

"Did you hear what I said?" Michelle asked.

"What?"

"I said," Michelle replied in an exaggerated, annoyed tone of voice, "that I heard from Lucy that you have a boyfriend."

"Oh!" I exclaimed in surprise. "I do!"

"So when can we meet him?" Lucy asked eagerly.

"Um...." I bit my lip as I tried to think of an excuse as to why I couldn't bring the Beatle forward by fifty-odd years to meet the two girls that I shared a house with, "he's not from around here."

_ Not technically, anyway _ .

"So invite him over for the half-term that's coming up." Michelle pressed.

"Uh... he's busy!" 

Michelle narrowed her eyes at me in the mirror. "Does he actually  _ exist  _ or were you just saying that to get Zak off your back?"

"He exists." I promised them, "but he won't be coming to Liverpool anytime soon."

Lucy sighed as she finished my makeup, "well," she said, "if he changes his mind, tell him that he is  _ more than welcome _ ."

We heard somebody's car horn out in the street. Michelle moved to glance out of the window on the other side of the room. "It's the boys." She informed us. Lucy moved away from me and I stood up. Michelle smirked, "have fun, girls."

Lucy grinned. "I love parties!" And she danced downstairs and out of the door. Michelle and I watched her get in the car before I turned back to Michelle.

"Do I really have to do this?"

Michelle nodded, reaching forward to hide my bra strap under the strap of my dress. "It'll be fun for you to do something normal." She promised. "All you do is sit in your room with that photo album."

Now that was true. I looked through it constantly, all the while wondering what my Ritchie was doing - and I had done that since before I had officially been 'his girl'.

Michelle smiled. "Have a good night."

I sighed and left the room, going to get in the car with Lucy, Zak and Zeke.


	20. Chapter 20

Zak was driving. He pulled up as close to the house where the party was as he could get - which wasn't very close at all. Nevertheless, none of us complained. Instead, we all climbed out of the car and made our way to the party. Zeke and Lucy held hands and walked slightly ahead of Zak and me.

I was glad that Zeke and Lucy were getting on because Lucy was my friend and I wanted her to be happy... but I was not thrilled about being left with Zak all of the time.

"So are you excited for tonight?"

I turned to Zak, looking at him with disbelief in my eyes. "Does it  _ look  _ like I'm excited?" I asked. He opened his mouth to answer my question, but I interrupted, "don't answer that. It was rhetorical."

"Look," Zak said as we walked through the door of the house. The four of us made a beeline to the kitchen in order to ply ourselves with alcohol, "I don't know what I did to offend you - I thought our date went well the other day -"

"It did," I told him honestly, surprising myself. "Too well, even. I was supposed to meet my boyfriend, but I forgot because  _ you _ ," I said, pouring myself some vodka before I continued, "confused me with funny jokes and sensitive conversation."

"So...?" He trailed off, looking confused, "why did you come on the date if you had a boyfriend?"

I downed the vodka and poured myself another cup of it before I replied, "he wasn't my boyfriend then."

Without another word from Zak, I turned and strode off to find somebody that I liked at this shitty party.

When I had wandered around enough, I worked out that Zeke and Lucy were probably upstairs in one of the bedrooms - they weren't in any of the downstairs rooms with the rest of the party-goers. I sighed and sat myself down on a settee, ignoring the people sitting around me. I continued to sip at the vodka and lemonade I'd made for myself on my second round of the house.

"Woo hoo!" Somebody that I didn't know exclaimed. I jumped in surprise, narrowly avoiding spilling the sticky beverage on my dress - which wasn't mine - it was Michelle's - and I didn't want to pay for the dry cleaning bill. The boy continued yelling at the top of his lungs to his friends, "looks like we got a new girl to play with!"

My head spinning slightly, I wondered what he was playing - and with who - and then I realised with a start that he meant  _ me _ and that he had an empty beer bottle in his hand.

"This looks like fun!" That wasn't me speaking, was it?

The bottle spun on the table. One end of it landed on me, and the other landed on...

"New girl!" The guy who had spoken first exclaimed, "you gotta kiss Jedd!" Jedd, the guy which the other end of the bottle had landed on, had long black hair like my own (though not nearly as long) and bright green eyes. He was pretty - for a guy - but he didn't look feminine.

As I stood up and Jedd did too, I was unable to control my own actions or stop my lips from touching his. He kissed me harshly, pushing his tongue down my throat until I almost choked on it. My eyes teared up with the pressure which he was applying.

Blue eyes swam in front of me and I whimpered, pushing Jedd away from me. Oh no... there was no way that I just did that, was there?

"I... I need to get home -"

"You're drunk, sweetheart," Jedd said in a sugary sweet voice, "you can't drive -"

"I'll get a cab!" I cried as I moved my wrist away from him as he reached out for it. I hurried out of the room and then found my way out of the house, somehow managing to order an Uber from my phone despite my intoxicated state.

* * * * *

I didn't remember the Uber ride back home. I didn't remember banging the door down until Michelle - half-asleep - came down to the porch to open the door for me. I didn't remember her holding me and helping me up to my room as I sobbed and cried and spoke about how Ritchie would be upset with me and would never trust me again, especially after the date that I had told him I had had with Zak.

And I hoped that Michelle didn't remember me holding the photographs which I had got printed of Ringo earlier that day and crying over them.


	21. Chapter 21

On my nineteenth birthday, September 8th 2020, I woke up early and got dressed into a 1960s outfit which I had bought from eBay for the occasion. I had also bought some 1950s and 1960s money so that I wouldn't have to rely on Ringo to buy everything for me like I had done with the bus fare last time - though I knew that he didn't mind. I had woken up in 2020, but I was confident that I would go to sleep in 1963.

I packed my bag; lots of outfits which I had bought from eBay and vintage thrift stores, and my wash bag. I packed clean underwear and finally a photo which I had printed out at Tesco of all of  _ The Beatles _ .

I wanted all of the boys to sign it so that I could have it on my wall.

Nobody would ever see it, and if they did, then they'd assume it was a fake - but I would know the truth, and that was what mattered.

I locked my bedroom door so I couldn't be disturbed and then I sat on the edge of my bed, my bag in my lap and the photo album open on the top of it. I flicked through the first few photos until I found the photo of Ringo and I in Blackpool - the one which I didn't remember taking - I also didn't remember putting it in the album, either.

Nevertheless, the second my fingers made contact with it, they disappeared inside of it and so did I, the wind sweeping through my room for barely a few seconds before it died down again.

When I landed, I realised that I was in another alley. It was early morning now, around eleven AM. I looked down at my lap as I was sitting on the grotty floor, and found that my bag had made the trip with me.

"I didn't think you'd be here  _ this  _ early." I turned and saw Ringo sitting on the floor behind me, a wide grin on his face.

"Ritchie!" I exclaimed in delight, throwing my arms around him and knocking him flat on the floor.

"Happy birthday, birdie." He pressed his lips against mine, giving me a wonderful kiss as my first birthday kiss - Michelle and Lucy hadn't even  _ known  _ it was my birthday. "You look beautiful!" And suddenly, my heart became heavy and I burst into tears. "Hey, hey," Ringo said, putting a hand on my shoulder to calm me down as he sat us both upright, though I was still straddling his lap, "what is it?"

"I have to tell you something." I cried.

"You can tell me anything."

"You'll be angry with me." I looked down at the ground. "Oh, Ritchie, I'm so ashamed of myself, I -"

"I promise that I won't be mad." He looked dead into my eyes and I felt some of the pressure which I was feeling fall from my shoulders. I trusted him, and that was enough.

"Ritch, I kissed somebody -"

"What?" He asked in surprise. It was obvious that he was upset as well, but he did a good job at hiding it.

"I was drunk, Ritchie," I said as if that made it any better, "I was at a party and I was drunk - but as soon as I realised what I was doing, I left the party and went home! I promise!"

I sobbed into my hands, climbing off of him and moving so that I had my back facing his legs. He could see only a side profile of my face.

He sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, surprised. I knew that he had promised not to be mad, but that was before he knew what I had done. I had expected him to fly off the handle about it - but the way that he was acting made me feel so much better, and it made me see what a good man he was.

"We all make mistakes, birdie." He said quietly as he wrapped his arms around me, trying to soothe my tears. "It's alright. I forgive you." I smiled a little at that, burying my face in his chest. Today he was wearing a grey cotton shirt which looked well worn and a pair of black drainpipe trousers. "But next time I hear about you with a boy in 2020, I'm going back with you to give them a piece of my mind," he paused to hear me giggle at his words before he continued, "nobody takes advantage of my girl."

My heart soared when he said that. I kissed his lips softly before I pulled away and rested our noses against each other. "So what have you got planned for today then, Ritch?"

Blackpool Pier was beautiful. In 1963, it wasn't half as run down as it appeared in 2020. Well, I hadn't  _ actually  _ been there in 2020, but I had been there when I was a little younger with my dad, and I remembered it being a rotten, dirty looking place.

But when I was with Ringo, it wasn't. He held my hand as we danced along the pier to the sound of the waves, laughing and giggling like school children as we moved. He bought me candyfloss, even though I had insisted that I pay. He had told me it was a birthday treat, and so I had had to allow him to pay for me.

And then he had bought fish and chips for us to eat for lunch - and had insisted that I let him pay for this as well... though, to be fair, we were sharing one portion, so it didn't seem as bad as it could have been.

We also played in the arcade - again, Ringo insisted that he pay for everything.

As we were giggling, two girls came up to us, wide grins on their faces. They tapped Ringo on the back, one after the other. I saw them first though, and I had subtly pointed them out to him before they had even arrived. He turned around and flashed them a grin. The two teenagers giggled. "Are you Ringo Starr?" One of them, the blonde one, asked.

"I am," Ringo replied in a kind tone.

"Of  _ The Beatles _ ?"

"No," he answered, "I'm of  _ The Bugs _ ."

The two girls took a second to understand the joke, but then they both giggled, covering their mouths with their hands. I rolled my eyes, though neither they nor Ringo noticed. "Would you sign for us?" They chorused.

Ringo nodded, "sure, girls. What do you want me to sign?"

The brunette reached into the handbag which she was carrying and pulled out a pen and four postcards. "These, please." She handed them and the pen to him and he quickly scribbled his name before he handed them back to her.

"Ringo," the blonde girl began, "would you sign my -"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, "but I'm celebrating a very important birthday." He turned to me, "you see, Ellie here has just turned nineteen."

"Oh." Their faces fell.

"I'll see you around, girls... and do me a favour and don't mention this to anyone?" 

"We won't, Ringo." They chorused.

He waved them off as if they were children which he was putting to bed. As condescending as it was, I actually liked it.

Ringo and I spent the rest of the day messing around and being love-struck teenagers (well, I was a teenager - he was twenty-three), before he told me it was time to book it to the ABC Theatre.

* * * * *

When we arrived at the ABC Theatre, he took me to the back entrance. Once again, it was just one large room, but there were two settees (instead of the previous four) which were facing away from everything else, so it looked as though there was a separate part for the band. Ringo led me over to them.

"Well lads," he said by way of a greeting as he gestured for me to take a seat, "here she is -"

"Happy birthday, Ellie!" They chorused - all of them, even John. 

Paul stood up from the settee which he was sitting on and crossed the few metres of space between us. He sidled up close to me, caught between my body and the arm of the settee. From under his coat, he produced a small box. He handed it to me and then kissed the top of my head. I blushed.

Paul McCartney had just kissed  _ me _ !

"Thanks, Paul." I said in a slightly embarrassed tone as I opened the box and saw three reels of film inside for the camera which I usually had at  _ The Beatles _ ' shows. "That's so thoughtful."

"Rings said that you like taking pictures." 

"I do." I promised. "Thank you again."

George bent over in his seat and reached under the settee. He pulled out a box which was as long as his arm and about as wide as his shoulder span. It had a big red bow on the black box. When he put it in my lap, my mouth opened and closed in surprise.

"George!" I exclaimed, carefully opening the box and taking off the lid. Inside, there was wrapping paper. I lifted up the paper and saw a beautiful dress in there. It was a bright pink teacup dress with a purple bodice and a big white bow around the waist. "It's gorgeous! I love it!" I took it out of the box and stood up, holding it to myself. It looked like it would fit perfectly. "Oh, it feels so soft and lovely!" I fingered the delicate material before I narrowed my eyes at the youngest Beatle, "you didn't spend a lot of money on this, did you?"

It was pre-Beatlemania, and I knew that the boys weren't  _ rich _ ... yet. I didn't want George spending a lot of money on me when he didn't have tonnes of it.

"Hardly anything." He promised. "It's one of Lou's old ones - mum just redyed it and added the bow for you... I think she also resized it, based on the dress which you left behind last time."

I beamed, loving it even more. "It's absolutely perfect." I handed it to Ringo who put it back into its box for me, carefully folding the tissue paper over it and then putting the lid back on. He put the box on the table beside us both on the settee and then he turned to me.

"You've still got one more present." John had spoken. That was surprising. He reached down the side of the settee and produced a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to me, "happy birthday, Ellie."

I thanked him and then carefully unwrapped it. It was a photo frame with a photo of me and Ringo inside - actually, it was the one which we had taken together the last time I was in 1963 - the one where he was kissing my cheek.

I beamed. "John, this is wonderful... thank you."

"So," George said, "do you have any plans for your birthday?"

"Well, we've spent all day on the pier -"

Ringo cut me off. "That wasn't your  _ entire  _ birthday." He paused. "As a matter of fact, we're going to spend some time in London and see the sights."

No way. I was going to see 1960s London!?

I squealed in delight. George chuckled and Paul looked vaguely frightened. John just looked amused.

Ringo wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his lap. "Geo," he said, now looking at his friend, "you're going to stay with John and Cyn for a few days, eh?"

George nodded. "Sure - I love spending time with little Julian. Reminds me of my niece."

After the show, the boys said that they were going to stay in Liverpool for the night, so Ringo told Neil to drive him and I back to London. The boys all bundled into the car - there wasn't enough space for all of us, so I had to sit on Ringo's lap - but he definitely didn't mind.

We dropped them off one by one at their different homes in Liverpool; John at Mimi's, George at his parents' and then Paul at his dad and stepmother's house... and then we went on to London. The London which I had only read about - the London of the swinging sixties. My heart was beating so loudly from anticipation in my chest that I wondered if Ringo could hear it.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, I breathed out contentedly as I realised that I was wrapped in Ringo's shirt, in his bed, the scent of him surrounding me... but he wasn't in the bed with me, and he hadn't been all night.

I got out of the bed and went into the bathroom of the flat which he shared with George. I brushed my teeth before I went into the living room where Ringo had been sleeping on the settee. I had said that it was okay for us both to share the bed. 

"We're both adults." I had smirked the previous night... but he had insisted on sleeping in the other room.

"Good morning," I smiled as I came into the room, Ringo's slippers on my feet. I was wearing only his shirt and my panties underneath. No bra.

Ringo was already awake, his head propped up by his arm, which was bent in a diamond shape to support the weight. "Good morning to you, birdie." He gestured for me to join him on the little settee by spreading his arms wide open. I giggled and slid onto the suede settee. Immediately his arms went around me and I rested my head against his chest. "How did you sleep?"

"Good," I told him. "Though it would have been better if you had been there next to me."

Ringo smirked and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head. "One day, birdie." He promised. "And I won't just be beside you..." He bent his head so he could whisper in my ear, "I'll be  _ inside  _ you."

I gasped, pretending to be surprised at what he had said.

I slapped his arm playfully, "you're dirty!"

"Wouldn't  _ you  _ like to find out?" He ran his fingers up and down my left arm as he teased me. I breathed out in delight as he pulled me even closer to him. I snuggled into him and delighted in the warmth there. "Would you like a spot of brekkie?"

I smiled. "I'd love some."

"You're going to have to move, then." I groaned. Ringo chuckled. "I'll make up for it later." He promised, placing one more kiss on the top of my head before I sat up so he could get off of the settee.

I watched as he cooked the breakfast; bacon sandwiches, and then he put the food down on the table. There was also a cup of tea which he gave to me and then he got one for himself.

"How does it taste?"

In a surprised voice, I said, "delicious - I didn't know you can cook!"

"Bacon and baked beans, that's about it." He shrugged as he dug into the food. "What do you want to do today?"

I slipped one foot from the slipper which it was wearing and rubbed it against his ankle, slowly working its way up until I got to his knee.

Ringo narrowed his eyes at me, his mouth hanging open as he waited with bated breath to see whether my foot would go higher or not.

"What are you doing?" He asked me.

"What I want to do today," I answered innocently, continuing to nibble on my sandwich, aware that Ringo was watching my every move.

"There is no way," he said, "that I am fucking you." My heart stopped when he said that. Did he not  _ want  _ to have sex with me? "Because if I start, then I won't be able to stop, and I have big plans for us tonight."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. He nodded. "Like what?"

"The Ad Lib." I gasped. I had always wanted to see that place! It was one of  _ the  _ places in London. "Are you excited?" Ringo asked when he saw my response to his words.

I nodded eagerly. "It's going to be awesome."

"Uh uh," he stopped me, "say  _ gear  _ if you want to fit in here."

I nodded. "It's going to be  _ gear _ !" I cheered, over pronouncing the word which he had told me to use instead.

We spent the day talking about our childhoods. "I spent a lot of time in hospital as a child." Ringo said, "that's why I can't spell very well and I'm not very good at maths," he paused. "That's why I'm thick, basically."

"Ritchie," I said, lacing my hands with his as I sat on his lap on the settee, "you're not thick." I had told him this before, but it was obvious that he needed reassurance because he was self-conscious about this. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I promise you."

We spoke for another hour or so before he tapped my arm, motioning silently that he wanted me to get off of his lap. I got up to stand beside him, "what's up?" I asked him.

"Well, we have to go and get ready."

"I didn't really bring anything for the Ad Lib, Ritchie."

"George got you that dress yesterday, didn't he?" I nodded. "Wear that - you'll look lovely."

"You're sure I'll fit in?" I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "They won't recognise me as somebody not from here?"

Ringo smiled affectionately at me. "I promise that they won't." He paused for dramatic effect, "and if anybody says anything to you, then I'll knock 'em flat out!"

I giggled, throwing my arms around his neck and jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist. Ringo moaned.

"Dear God," he said, "if you do that then we'll never get out of here tonight."

I giggled and jumped down from him. "I guess I'd better go get changed then...?"

As I turned to walk away from him, I made sure to sway my hips enticingly.

* * * * *

Ringo and I arrived at the Ad Lib Club. As soon as he flashed his face to the bouncer on the door, we were in.

He went straight over to the bar, gestured to the tender and then over to a table which was not currently occupied. It was right in the corner of the club. He led me over there. It was a booth facing the dancefloor. He sat down first, and I went to sit beside him, but instead, Ringo pulled me into his lap.

I gasped and giggled, wrapping one arm around the back of his neck so I still had my balance.

Almost immediately, we had company.

My eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets when Mick Jagger and Keith Richards took their seats with us.

"New girl, Ringo?" Keith teased, smirking at me as he licked his lips a little.

"My only girl," Ringo said in a measured tone of voice, protectively wrapping an arm around my waist to show that I was with  _ him _ .

The bartender brought over our drinks on a tray. Ringo handed me my one and then reached for his own before handing the bartender a few notes as a tip and payment and then waving him off. The way that Ringo just swept the man away was unkind... but I found myself loving it... and the attention which I could have on the arm of this Beatle was all the more enticing.

We spent the rest of the night conversing with Keith and Mick and whoever else came over to us - though I knew that in a few years, Ringo and the rest of  _ The Beatles  _ would be swamped with people every time they left the comfort of their homes - and even when they were in their homes... soon they'd have girls clamouring for their numbers and addresses and camping outside of their houses.

"Right," Ringo said at around three in the morning, "I think it's time to get moving."

I got off of Ringo's lap and smiled at Mick and Keith graciously. "It was nice to meet you."

_ An honour, actually _ .

"Wait!" Keith grabbed at my hand. I turned, and Ringo turned as well - he was leading the way out of the club. "Can I call you?"

"I, um..." 

_ Whose number was I going to give him!? _

"Call mine and Geo's, aye?" Ringo said as he grabbed my hand from Keith and then wrenched me away. He was being a little rough... but I secretly loved it. His dominance was... well, it turned me on.

We got in a cab and it took us back to the flat which Ringo shared with George.


	23. Chapter 23

The next morning, we didn't wake up until well after midday - in fact, as soon as we woke up, Ringo started speaking about that evening. "We'll go to the club again," he said gleefully. "I think Paul's in town with Jane, so maybe they'll be there, too -"

"Jane as in," I swallowed, " _ Jane Asher _ ?"

Ringo nodded as he got off of the settee which he had slept on, yet again. He pulled his shirt from the previous night back on, much to my grievance.

"Is that a problem?" Ringo paused, "oh! Do Jane and Paul get married? Because we're all betting on it -"

"They get engaged." I tell him, "but it doesn't work out."

"Why not?"

I bit my lip, wondering if it was dangerous to tell him too much about the future - but then, he already knew about Annabelle, and I had told him so much more. I decided that it couldn't do that much harm. "She finds him in bed with another girl."

"Ouch." He winced, "poor Jane."

I nodded in agreement.

"So is Paul alone for the next sixty years, then?"

I laughed. "No, he finds a lovely lady called Linda Eastman." I paused, "they have three children together, and Paul also adopts Linda's daughter from her first marriage."

"Ah," Ringo chuckled, "that sounds like our Paulie; so chivalrous."

I giggled, putting a hand over my mouth to cover it. "So what am I going to wear tonight?"

"There's a dress in the wardrobe - Brian had it brought over while we were out last night." My eyes widened in surprise and excitement as I dashed off to see what Brian Epstein had delivered for me.

When I opened the doors of the wardrobe in Ringo's room, at first I saw only his shirts and ironed trousers, hanging up. I was impressed - I hadn't known anybody who had ironed trousers before, but it seemed to make Ringo appear all the more important.

But at the very end of the hangers was one single one. I took it from the rest and held up the garment which it had on it. It was a dress; well, a bralette with a miniskirt attached to it, really. I knew that it was risque and scandalous and that if the tabloids got a photo of me beside Ringo wearing this little slip of a dress, then it could make headlines around the world.

Ringo was standing behind me in the doorway, resting against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, though I didn't know that until he let out a low whistle as I came to stand in front of the mirror in his room.

I gasped, turning. "I didn't expect you to be watching!" I defended myself.

Ringo chuckled, coming further into the room. "Reckon you'll look a vision in that," he fingered the delicate material, "and if Keith bloody Richards makes a move on my birdie tonight, then I'll -"

I pecked the end of his nose. "He won't," I promised. "I was only humouring him last night... it's  _ you  _ that I'm with, isn't it?"

Ringo didn't answer. Instead, he ran his hands up my body, each finger tracing the buttons of the shirt which he had leant me to wear the previous night - well, early that morning - after we had gotten in from the crazy night at the Ad Lib Club.

I couldn't help but let out a needy, breathless moan as his fingers ghosted against my breasts, bare under the fabric of his shirt. He smirked. "I think I'll sleep in the bed with you tonight, El." He said, somewhat absentmindedly, watching the way my almost-naked body moved as I looked at myself from different angles in the mirror.

"Oh good," I smirked, "I am  _ so  _ glad."

"You're a tease," Ringo said flippantly as he went to the wardrobe and dug around for something to wear for that night's outing.

"Only for you." 

* * * * *

"That's your third rum and coke already!" I yelled to him over the music. I was sitting on his lap again, my dress working its way further up my thighs, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was, arguably, too drunk for that.

"And that's your...?" He gestured to my martini glass. I shrugged.

"Fifth?"

He smirked. "You're more of a drinker than I am -"

"We're both  _ way  _ too drunk to get back alright."

"Paul!" Ringo made me jump when he exclaimed the other Beatle's name, waving a hand towards us both.

Seconds later, Paul McCartney sat opposite us at the same table we had been at yesterday night. Jane Asher, the beautiful red-headed girl who I had seen in early Beatles photographs, sat beside him.

"Did you enjoy your birthday, Ellie?" He asked kindly by way of a greeting.

I nodded and giggled, the room spinning around me as I felt Ringo's hand sitting possessively on the inside of my thigh - quite high up, I might add.

"You must be Eleanor." Jane held out a manicured hand. I felt self-conscious - she seemed so much prettier and primmer than I was - nevertheless, I shook her hand before quickly withdrawing it and putting it around Ringo's waist.

"We were just about to get out of here, weren't we, birdie?" 

I turned to Ringo and giggled. "Were we?"

He nodded slowly. "...Yes..."

I got off of his lap and waved to Paul and Jane, "bye!" And danced my way out of the club, Ringo having to hurry after me in case he lost me.

* * * * *

When we got back to the flat, I went over to the record player and put  _ With The Beatles  _ on. I started with the B-side because it had 'Roll Over Beethoven' on it, which was a song that I  _ had  _ to dance to.

I moved around the room and beckoned for Ringo to join me. "Do you never dance to your own records?" I asked him, coming over to him and taking his hands in mine before I led him over into the space between the turntable and the settee. I giggled as he started to gain his confidence; I knew from videos and interviews that I had seen online back in 2020 that Ringo loved to dance and that he was good at it - but I also knew from those interviews - and also from being with him for the past few days, that he was incredibly shy.

But being inebriated bought him out of his shell. We danced and laughed until the record needed flipping... but when the music stopped, we took the time to get our breath back, just staring into each other's eyes.

As our heads drew closer, our hearts beat in synchronisation. Our lips touched and melted into one another, and our hands went round our partner, pulling us both as close together as it was possible for us to be - whilst clothed.

I think it was Ringo who took the heated makeout session up a notch. His rough, calloused drummer's fingers drew imaginary lines around my breasts until one quickly darted under the bralette I was wearing and thumbed at my nipple.

I gasped, my mouth falling open and my cunt dripping in the panties which I had bought with me from 2020 - not sexy ones at all, but some of the plainest ones I owned. I cursed myself when my drunken mind remembered that I was not 'dressed' for the occasion.

Ringo pushed me backwards onto the settee. I fell into a seated position, but in a second I was on my back with one leg over the back of the settee and the other almost touching the floor, my legs spread as far as they could go.

Ringo, pure wanton lust in his eyes, pushed my dress as far up my body as it would go - to my navel - and then he just sat back and stared at my panties. I blushed. "I know they're not what you're used to," I said, trying to cover for myself, "but I didn't know this was going to happen -"

"I can see your fucking grool..." he moaned as he slowly reached out to touch the wet spot on the thin material. As his finger made contact with my panties, I moaned, able to feel the warmth of his skin through them.

"Please!" I begged, "take them off, Ritchie!"

"Your knickers or my trousers?" He smirked.

"Both!" I begged him, "both, both!"

And he did just that, first stripping himself of his trousers and then pushing his boxer shorts down his legs. I practically drooled in delight when I caught my first glance of his member. I couldn't even imagine how good it would feel to have it sheathed within me.

Ringo took a second to slick up his cock with the precum leaking from his red tip before he pulled the panties down my legs and flicked them off of my feet. He stroked himself to full attention and then bit his lip as he looked down at my leaking, swollen pussy. I had no doubt that it was contracting already, and that he could see it.

He moaned, his head rolling back against his shoulders as he growled, "I can't wait to fuck you!"

I whimpered out his name, "Ritchie!" And brought one hand of my own down to my aching clit, rubbing it with just one finger. I was teasing myself, but I was also teasing him. Mesmerised, he watched for a few seconds before he snapped back to attention. He grabbed my hand with one of his and brought it up above my head. 

"Keep it there." He growled at me, locking his gaze with mine. I nodded, not daring to do anything to disobey him. He wasn't scary - he was dominant and sexy, and I loved it.

Ringo pushed the bralette down my body until it was one with the skirt part of the dress. He then looked at my breasts, salivating as my nipples hardened in the harsh November air of the flat.

I half-watched as he stroked his cock again until it was leaking so much I thought he had already cum - but then he brought it to my folds and stroked it up and down, coating it in my arousal. I screamed quietly in delight, knowing that what I needed so badly right now was so close.

"I'm going to fuck my girl tonight," he said before he pushed his hard rod into me and buried his lips in my tits, biting, sucking, teasing and nipping me.

I squealed and whimpered and moaned, begging him to go faster as he gave me no time to adjust and instead drove himself in and out of me. Hard. He was merciless, acting as if he was chasing only his own orgasm - and it was driving me insane.

I could feel my cunt clenching around him before I felt his throbbing cock, but as soon as I felt his hot seed fill me up from deep within, I knew it was over. I exploded just moments after Ringo did, screaming out his name in hot delight as my back arched and my toes curled, my eyes closing in ecstasy as I orgasmed the hardest that I had ever done.

We came down from our high together, falling asleep in each other's arms on the tiny little sofa which was perfect for the two of us.


	24. Chapter 24

As I came to consciousness the next morning, the first thing which I was aware of was the sticky feeling between my legs. I winced at the thought of what I'd have to clean up...

And then I remembered what had happened between Ringo and I the previous night and a shiver ran down my spine. The ache in my head intensified. I hadn't intended to have sex with him - I hadn't meant to.

I could hear Ringo snoring softly beside me, his nose nestled against my neck and his head buried in the small space between my shoulder and head.

I bit my lip, my heart thumping in my chest as I knew that he would want to talk about what happened. I ran through the options in my head and the pros and cons of them. I could think of only one thing to do.

Being ever so careful as to not wake my Ritchie up, I got off of the settee and put his shirt on around my naked body and my knickers. Tears poured down my face as I tiptoed around, looking for a pen and paper so that I could leave my message.

I wrote the words which ripped my heart apart and then left the paper on the dining table in the kitchen where I knew he would see it. 

_ Ringo, _

_ I love you so much, but that is what makes this so difficult. _

_ Yesterday - last night - was a mistake, and one that I can't make again. _

_ I've gone back to 2020, and I won't be returning. I ask only that you move on with your life, because I will move in with mine. _

_ Love always, El _

With a heavy, broken heart, I went to grab as much of my own stuff as I could and then I stroked the locket, feeling the wind pick up as it swept me home.

* * * * *

I landed on the bed of my bedroom, my stuff falling around me. I laid back on the bed sobbing, making a silent promise to myself; I wouldn't go back.

I couldn't go back. Ritchie... what had happened between us had gone too far. I loved him, I knew that much, but I  _ belonged  _ in the present; with wifi, and phone signal and Michelle and Lucy.

I didn't belong in 1963 with Keith Richards, Jane Asher and Ringo Starr. 

I cried until I had the bright idea to destroy the photo album - that would keep me from returning to the man that I loved.

I got off of the bed and found the photo album amidst the sea of items which I had bought back with me from 1963... and as I reached out for it, I realised what I was still wearing - Ringo's shirt from the previous night - or rather, Ringo Starr's shirt from 10th September 1963.

I took it off quickly and threw it down on the bed in anger. How could I have taken anything from him?

For a split second, I considered selling it on eBay... but I had no certificate of authenticity, and there was no way that I could contact the now-nearly eighty-year-old Ringo Starr to obtain one... he would be furious.

I pulled my dressing gown around my naked body save for my panties, and then I went into the bathroom to run a bath for myself - the area between my legs was still sticky.

"Oh!" Michelle gasped when she saw me. "You're up - I thought you'd be asleep, still."

I shrugged, feeling gloomy. "I've been up a while."

"Have you been crying?"

We could hear Lucy laughing and talking to somebody downstairs.

"No," I answered sharply.

Michelle flinched at the tone of my voice, but then she said, "it's none of my business, Eleanor." She paused. "Lucy's downstairs with your uncle - I thought you said you didn't have any family?"

" _ Uncle _ ?" I echoed in surprise.

Michelle nodded. "He's having a cup of tea and some of Luce's homemade gingerbread - he said that I should go up and get you."

"I don't -"

Michelle was already halfway down the stairs.

My mind was spinning. I didn't have an uncle. Nevertheless, I was intrigued. I went into the bathroom, wiped the mess from between my legs with my flannel and then went to go and get dressed quickly.

When I got downstairs, nobody was in the living room. I could hear talking in the kitchen, though, so I followed the voices.

My mouth fell open. There, sitting at our dining table, was none other than a seventy-something-year-old Paul McCartney.

"P-Paul?" I asked in disbelief, slowly walking over to the dining table and sitting opposite him.

"Well that's great for  _ The Beatles  _ tribute band that you're in," Lucy said, "your name is Paul as well!"

Paul turned to her, "it's uncanny how alike the two of us." He told her, smiling kindly. "Would you mind giving my niece and I some time alone?"

Lucy nodded and grinned, dancing out of the kitchen. She was like having a young child; bright and peppy and always full of energy.

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, Paul looked at me.

"Hello, Luv." He grinned like a school child. I could see so much of his younger self in him, it was crazy.

"H-hi..."

"You know why I'm here?"

"I can only guess." I bit my lip. "H-how is he?"

"I don't know exactly," Paul answered. "Remember, for me, it's been nearly sixty years." I hung my head, "but I do know that he was miserable when you left."

"Paul," I said quietly, "how are you  _ here _ ? How are you okay with this?"

"The day you left, he called me and asked me to come down to London. I could hear in his voice that he was broken. When I got there, he explained everything."

"And did you ever... did you ever tell anybody?" He shook his head. "Why are you here now?"

"He told me that for you, it was 9th September 2020."

"So you waited until now?"

"You have to go back, Ellie," Paul said desperately, clasping at my hands which had previously been resting on the table.

I could feel tears stinging my eyes, "why?"

Of course, I already knew the answer why - or  _ my  _ answer, anyway - because I was in love with him.

"Because he loves you, Ellie, and you love him." Paul paused. "And he gets back with Maureen, and they live unhappily. Forever."

"But Maureen died." I pointed out.

Paul shook his head. "No, she's not."

"Well she was -"

"Was she dead  _ before  _ you went back the first time?" I nodded. "Well right now, she's alive, and she and Ringo will get married and have two children -"

"They have three; Lee, Jason and Zak." I cut him off.

"God, this is confusing," he said, "look, in my timeline - or whatever - they have two; Lee and Jason. Zak doesn't exist."

"Paul," I said quietly, "what do you want to achieve?"

"I want you to say that you'll go back, Ellie," Paul answered in a desperate, pleading tone. "He  _ needs  _ you."

"I'll think about it," I promised him.

" _ El _ ..." 

"Why didn't he come here himself, Paul?" I asked the older man. "If Ringo needed me so much, then he would have come to ask me to go back himself."

"He didn't come because he knew he couldn't," Paul replied. "imagine what it would be like for him; to go back home to Liverpool and knock on the door of the woman who he's loved for sixty years. And to see that she hasn't aged a day... it'd do wonders to him, I'm sure." Paul paused, "and then imagine what it would do for you; you obviously still love him -"

"Oh, Paul," I said, a tear escaping my eyes and rolling down my face, "of course I do. Did you read the note?" He nodded. "I was with him this morning - I wrote that note  _ this morning _ \- you can't imagine how difficult it was."

" _ Please, Eleanor _ ," Paul said in a pleading tone, his brown eyes widening as he begged me to save his friend.

I sighed. "Okay, Paul," I answered. "I will. I promise you... but I want to wait a while."

"Why?" He asked in a demanding tone.

I withdrew my hands from his wrinkled ones, "because I need some space, we -"

"So you had sex," Paul interrupted, "big deal. Everybody does it."

"I know -"

"Were you a virgin?" I blushed at his question.

"No, but I just..."

"So what's the problem, then?"

"It just... I felt like it meant we were getting serious - like it meant something more with Ritchie than sex with some other person would."

Paul was silent.

"What?" I asked.

There was a smirk on his face.

"Nothing." He replied eventually.

"Well, it's obviously  _ something _ ," I answered sarcastically.

"It's just that you're  _ in _ love with him." I blushed a deeper red. Paul sighed and got up, going over to the door of the kitchen, "take all the time you want, Eleanor, but you're only hurting yourself - oh, and Ringo, of course." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He put it on the kitchen side beside him. "That's my number," he said, "hopefully you won't, but if you ever need me, then give me a call and I'll do my best to help."

Paul went to leave the room, but I stopped him, "Paul!" I called. He turned. "Is... is he happy now?"

"He's come to terms with it." I was silent. "Bye, El." And then he left the house. I stood up, retrieved his business card and went back upstairs. I had some thinking to do.


	25. Chapter 25

_ December 24th 2020 _

Months passed and I threw myself into my university work. Paul didn't visit again, and I didn't call him.

I developed depression, spending the majority of my time in my room and not eating anything other than when Michelle and Lucy sat me down and  _ made  _ me eat, which was about once a day - it wasn't their fault, and they did the best that they could with me.

But now it was Christmas Eve, and they had their own lives.

"Are you sure that you'll be okay here?" Lucy asked as I laid on the bed in her bedroom as she did her makeup. "You'll remember to eat?"

"Maybe."

"El," she turned her body to face me in her chair, "please promise me that you'll eat? And besides, Chel and I will only be gone for two days. We'll be back on Boxing Day night."

I sighed. "I'll eat," I answered begrudgingly.

"Good." She paused, turning back to her mirror briefly to do her eyeliner, "how do I look?"

"Great," I told her. 

"Good," she responded again, "I guess I'm ready to go then."

She and Michelle left - they were going to spend Christmas with Lucy's family in Chester. I had been asked to join them, but I had refused to.

* * * * *

I spent Christmas day alone, listening to music - I purposely avoided anything by  _ The Beatles _ \- but I had the heaviest heart that I had had since I had left him. My Ritchie. I wondered what he was doing on Christmas day in 1963 and if he'd want to see me. I wondered what he was doing on Christmas day in 2020 and if he was thinking about me despite the years that it had been since we'd seen each other - well, years for him and months for me - 

I sighed. I couldn't hold back any longer. I had promised Paul that I would go and see Ringo in 1963, and when I made a promise, I didn't break it.

I went upstairs to my room having just eaten dinner - which was a sandwich - and went to the place where I had hidden the photo album. I hadn't destroyed it - to do so would have destroyed me in the process.

It was wrapped in Ringo's shirt. I sat on the bed and unwrapped it before I opened it up and looked through the photos for the best one.

There was one which was of Ringo and me at the Ad Lib Club, with me perched on his knee and Keith Richards and Mick Jagger sitting at the table with us. I inhaled deeply before I touched the photograph and disappeared.

I realised that I was in London as soon as I caught sight of the front door of the building. It was the one which led to the flat which Ringo shared with George. It was the same building that Brian Epstein lived in - he on the top floor, and George and Ringo on the second.

I took a deep breath.  _ Ringo must be here _ , I thought,  _ otherwise I wouldn't have been brought here _ .

I went up the steps and to the intercom system, crude compared to the ones which would exist sixty years from this point, in 2020. I rang the number for their flat and waited for a reply...

But there wasn't one.

I sat down on the steps of the flat,  _ perhaps he's out celebrating Christmas with the others _ .

I put my head in my hands and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Not one person turned up in about seven hours. By the time I sighed and admitted defeat, it was the early hours of Christmas Day 1963, and I was still alone.

My Beatle hadn't arrived.

I sighed and stood up, rubbing my hands together as the bitter cold slowly ate me alive - or that's what it felt like, anyway. Maybe it was the biting empty feeling inside of me... loneliness.

I reached for my locket feeling defeated and determined to never make such a fool of myself again.


	26. Chapter 26

_ 8th November 2021 _

It had been almost eleven months since I had sat on the stone steps of that building in London on a cold night in December 1963. It had been thirteen months since I had last seen Ringo. My heart was broken, and my resolve was shot. 

I needed him.

Lucy and Michelle had tried to convince me of the same thing.

They didn't know  _ who  _ I was seeing, but they knew that I had been seeing somebody, and they knew that it had ended... painfully.

But I could stand it no longer. I  _ needed  _ to see him. I locked my bedroom door, took the photo album from its place under my bed (where I had moved it after I had sworn not to go back to the past), and took off Ringo's shirt from around it. If I put the collar to my nose, I could still smell him. I sobbed as I became all the more resolute to do this.

I opened the photo album and put Ringo's shirt beside me on the bed. I turned to the photo beside the one of us at the Ad Lib Club. It was a backstage photo which I had seen online before. It was of the four boys having their hair done by the girls; including Pattie Boyd, who were acting as students in the film 'A Hard Day's Night'.

I touched it and the wind picked up, making my heart race as I thought of what awaited me - my Ritchie.

* * * * *

I was expecting to land in London like I had the previous time, but instead, I was standing outside of Michelle's house - though the small tree across the road - the one which usually blocked out all light in my room - told me that it was about fifty years before 2021. I was in 1964. I knew it.

I walked down the road, wondering why the photo album had brought me to Liverpool when I had an epiphany.

I was standing outside of a house that was so familiar. There was only one reason why Ringo would be in Liverpool. I went up the garden path and knocked on the door, crying as I waited for the occupants to answer.

"Eleanor!?" Elsie said in surprise when she saw me standing on her doorstep.

"Mrs Graves!" I exclaimed, surprised that she remembered me. I wiped some tears from my face. "Is Ritchie here?"

Elsie bit her lip and said, "no, he isn't... you look a state, dear - why don't you come in for a little while?" She took a step back to let me into her home. I thanked her and walked in. "Into the kitchen, dear." I kept walking until I got to the end of the hallway. "Take a seat." I sat at the dining table. "Cup of tea?"

I nodded, "thank you..." she set about making it, using the stove to boil the water as opposed to a kettle. "Have you seen Ritchie recently?" I asked. "I haven't spoken to him in over a year, and I can't take it anymore," I explained, "I have to make it up to him, I -"

"I haven't seen him today, dear," Elsie interrupted me as she poured the hot water into the teacup, "I have seen Maureen, though - she's his  _ new _ girlfriend."

_ Oh no _ , I thought,  _ I'm already too late - Paul was right _ .

"M-Maureen?" I echoed, sobbing harder. 

"There now," Elsie put the cup of tea down in front of me and rubbed my back gently. "She's not nearly as pretty as you are. I'm sure it's only a phase."

"D-does she m-make him -" I cut myself off as the back door opened and Ringo walked into the kitchen, throwing his head back in laughter at something the person behind him had said. I heard a woman's voice and I sobbed harder.

Ringo saw me sitting in the kitchen and he stopped laughing. He didn't even stop to assess the situation before he hurried to my side and knelt down, putting a hand on my knee. "Eleanor?" He asked me in a serious, concerned tone, "are you alright?"

"I'll make you some tea, Ritchie." Elsie set about making another cup for her son.

"Who's  _ she _ , Ritchie?" Ringo and I looked up at the person who had followed him into the kitchen. I recognised her face from Beatles photos. She was Maureen Cox.

Ringo ignored her, instead, he asked, "where have you been? Why haven't you been back to see me?"

"Ritchie?" Maureen said again.

"Mo," Ringo sighed, not even turning to her as he dismissed her, "I'll call you later."

"Ritchie," Maureen said, trying to put up a fight for herself, "I want to know who she is -"

Ringo looked to his mother who was watching us both intently. Elsie gave a slight nod of her head and turned to Maureen, who looked like she was on the brink of tears. I felt almost sorry for her. "You heard what he said, dear." She put a hand on Maureen's shoulder and led her out of the room through the back door and down the end of the garden.

That gave Ringo and me some time to talk. "I thought you didn't want me anymore." I cried, "I came back at Christmas and waited all night outside your flat, but you didn't come home." I reached up to wipe a tear from my face. As I moved, Ringo caught my hand in his own.

I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and saw my home. Everything that had ever made me feel safe was held in one person. "I'm sorry he wasn't there," he replied, sounding like he was going to break down right in front of me, "I should have been there, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Ritch." I put a hand behind his head and got off of the chair, kneeling down on the floor beside him. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled myself closer to him. His arms went around my body and I noticed that he had lost weight in the last thirteen months.

"I'm sorry about Maureen." He said quietly in my ear. We both ignored Elsie, who walked through the kitchen and into the living room to rejoin her husband, presumably. "I was just trying to get you out of my head - she means nothing."

I cut my darling Ringo off with a swift kiss to his lips, tears mixing between our mouths as we cried in each other's arms. "I know, I know." I reassured him, "I believe you. I know that she means nothing." I paused, "God, Ritch, I missed you so much. I'm so sorry. I'll never do that again, I promise."

He breathed out in relief at my words, opening his mouth to reply before we heard Elsie calling from the living room, "Ritchie, if you don't leave now then you're going to be late!"

He sighed and pulled himself from my arms, albeit reluctantly. "Late for what?" I asked him as we both regained our full heights and stood close together.

"The show." He answered me. "We're playing the Empire tonight." Ringo paused for a second, a plan forming in his mind, "do you want to come?"

I beamed. "I'd love to!" And I threw my arms around his neck, kissing his lips once more. God, how I had missed him.


	27. Chapter 27

Ringo and I hardly left each other's side for the rest of the night. Neil came to pick us up in the black Austin Princess because Ringo couldn't have made his own way to the Liverpool Empire Theatre even if he wanted to - they were in the very beginning of Beatlemania, and everywhere they went they were being called for.

We got to the backstage area. There was a separate dressing room for each Beatle, but the four of them preferred to be together. Ringo pulled me into their shared dressing room - which was supposed to be just John's. When the three other Beatles saw me, they stopped their conversation and just stared.

I saw Paul and I smiled. "Paul!" I exclaimed, going over to him and hugging him tightly.

"Hello, Luv," he answered warmly, hugging me back. As I went to pull away from him, he whispered in my ear, "did I do it, then?"

"Seventy-eight year old you came to pay me a visit," I told him.

He chuckled, now letting go of me but we stood close together so that it was unlikely anybody would overhear our conversation, "do I still look good?"  
I giggled. "Better than eighty-year-old Ringo does, that's for sure."  
Paul guffawed and turned to Ringo, "hear that, Rings!? I look better than you, according to your bird!" I was glad that he didn't give context to that sentence because otherwise it would have meant explaining everything to John and George.

"George," I said, turning to the youngest Beatle, "are you still smoking?"

"I've cut down." He promised.

"He smokes about thirty a day now." Ringo promised me, "not sixty or so."  
I smiled affectionately, feeling like a mother to the man who was slightly older than me, "good, good, Geo."  
"And what about me, Ellie?" John asked, tugging on the orange dress which I had been wearing when I'd arrived outside of Ringo's parents' house earlier that day.

"You're a swine, Lennon!" I teased him, using his famous line from their first feature-length film which had come out earlier that year.

"Ah," he said in an amused tone, "so you saw the film then?"  
I nodded, "of course I've seen it."  
"What did you think?" Paul asked excitedly as he retook his seat in the dressing room.

"It was amazing!" I enthused. "You were all great."  
"Who was your favourite?" George drawled, biting into a sandwich which he had produced from the inside pocket of his Beatle suit. 

"Who do you think?" I asked, going back to Ringo and wrapping an arm around his waist, nuzzling my head against his chest and slipping a hand into his jacket, resting it on the fabric of his shirt over his belly.

Ringo chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of my head despite the fact that we were the same height.

"Five minutes, boys!" A stagehand called as he walked into the room briefly and then out again.

John strode over to me and whispered, "can I borrow you for a second?" I nodded and followed him from the room.

As I went to leave, Ringo asked, "El, where you going!?"  
I turned, a perfect response forming in my mind as I called, "I'm going parading before it's too late!"  
George, Paul and Ringo laughed as I followed John.

John pulled me into what would have been Paul's dressing room. "I wanted to say thank you."  
" _Thank you_?" I echoed in surprise. He nodded. "For what?"

"For coming back."  
"You've lost your touch, Lennon." I teased, trying to diffuse the awkwardness between us - and the embarrassment which John felt at having to thank me. I knew that it wasn't often he had to show gratitude.

"When he didn't see you, he was heartbroken. I've never seen a lad like it. He couldn't play in time for a while, and he was just... a shell... but tonight, it's like he's back. I hate that you left him in the first place, but seeing you two together, I can't be horrible anymore - you two look like you were made to be together."  
Again, I tried to make John feel more comfortable. I teased, "you've gone soft, John Lennon."

"Not as soft as our Ringo has gone for you." John grinned. "Don't leave him like that again, Ellie. Please."

I sighed, "John," I said, "I have to stay here for university -"  
"Then come and see him on your holidays." I couldn't imagine that the great John Lennon had ever begged for a thing in his life - but now there he was, begging me to come and see his friend whenever I could. "I don't think he could take a loss like that again."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Ringo cut me off. He came into the room and placed a soft, loving kiss on my cheek. "I just have to tell you, birdie," he said, looking at John so that the younger man would get the message to leave the room. John left and Ringo continued, "when I didn't see you, I thought it was the end of everything, and that I'd never be happy again... I thought I was going to die."

"Ritchie..." I trailed off, tears in my eyes, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry and I never want to hurt you like that again -"

"I want you to stay here with me," Ringo said.

I looked at him in surprise, though I should have expected his statement. "I'm not packed," I told him.

"No." He said resolutely, "I want you to stay here _forever_." I sighed and led him over to the armchair in the corner of the room. He sat down first and then I sat on his knee, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady myself. "Ritch, I can't... I have university to finish -"

"Finish it here, with me." He begged.

"I can't." I reminded him, "I'm nearly halfway through my degree, I -"

"Please," he said in a quiet tone, "I need you here with me. By my side. I need you, birdie -"

I sighed, getting up from his knee and beginning to pace across the room. "Ritchie, I have to tell you something."

"Whatever it is," he said, "we'll work through it."

"It isn't... anything like that." I thought back to the times when I had been unfaithful to him, even if I hadn't intended to be; when I had met Zak at Penny Lane that one time, and also when I had kissed that guy at that party I had attended with Lucy, Zeke and Zak. "It's just... it's that none of the relationships which you four have in the early years last - look at Paul and Jane, for example."  
"But we're different," Ringo promised. "We'd beat the odds."

"Ritch, I don't want to have five years of a whirlwind romance and then be left with three kids, divorce papers and a mortgage on a house which is much too big for me to pay by myself." I sighed. "If you want me to stay with you, then I have two stipulations."  
"What are they?"  
"I have two conditions." I elaborated.

He nodded slowly. "One, I want to finish my university degree first - and I want to finish it in the twenty-first century."

"I can live with that one." He said, "how much longer do you have?"  
"A year and a half." He sighed. "But I will come and visit you whenever I can -"

"What's your second term?"

"I want to wait until after you've finished touring."

"But why?"  
"Because then you'll be home more, and we'll be able to be together properly," I explained. "And besides," I paused, "it isn't that long, anyway."

"When do we finish touring?"  
"August 1966," I answered. "So I'll finish my uni degree in July 2023, which is the year after next for me. By that time, it'll be 1966 for you. In July, I'll come and see if we can live together."  
"Will we be touring in July?" I nodded.

"And if we still love each other then like we do now," I paused, "then I'll stay."

"It sounds so far away -"

"It'll pass in a flash." I promised him, placing a kiss in the middle of his forehead, "now go and play - I think you're running late!"  
Ringo waved a hand in the direction of the door, "they can't hear us play over the screaming anyway."  
And then he cemented his lips against my own and swept me into his arms, pushing his tongue into my mouth and showing me how much he loved me.

"Will you come with us to the next stop?" He asked me as he pulled away. We could hear Paul calling for him further down the corridor.

I nodded eagerly. "If I didn't have to finish university, then I'd stay with you now and forever."

"Ringo!" Paul called, getting closer.

"I love you." Ringo kissed my lips once more before he hurried out of the room.

I wanted to go and watch, but I had to take a moment to stew over what he had just said.

 _I love you_.

That was the first time that either of us had said those three words simply to the other one. They made my heart beat fast in my chest.

Ringo loved me.


	28. Chapter 28

When we arrived in Sheffield later that night, the boys and I were immediately taken to a hotel. It was the best in the city, apparently. We were all very drunk and acting very silly since we had had almost two hours to drink in the car on the way over after the show.

I was sitting in Ringo's lap since there was no other way we all would have fitted into the car; that is, John, Paul, George and Ringo, me and Neil.

Neil took us in through a back entrance and checked us all in as quickly as he could, telling us to wait in the disused luggage storage room until he returned to avoid the fans who had somehow managed to find out where _The Beatles_ would be staying whilst they were in Sheffield.

When he returned, he took us to the elevator and promised that the boys' bags were already in each of their rooms - and that he had upgraded Ringo's room so that there was a double bed for us to share.

When we were alone in our room, Ringo began to undress. He was being sloppy about it and was taking a long time. Being a university student, I was more accustomed to coping under the influence of alcohol, so I stripped down to just my panties and had donned a shirt which I had found in Ringo's suitcase before he had even managed to take his shoes off.

I turned to him and smiled adoringly, slowly making my way over to him. I helped him to undo the buttons of his shirt and the zip of his trousers, trying to stop myself from taking further action when he locked our lips together and begged me to let him fuck me.

God, I wanted to so badly. I wanted to give myself to him -

But after what had happened the last time we'd had sex, I knew that if it was going to happen again, I had to be sober. 

I managed to get him down to just his underwear before he put his hands over mine. "I love you." He said again in a slurred voice, "please can I go to bed now?"  
I giggled in my inebriated state and kissed his lips softly, pulling away before I replied, "only if I can come, too."

He pulled me over to the bed and we got in, side-by-side, exactly where we were supposed to be.

* * * * *

The next morning, we were confined to our rooms by Mal Evans, _The Beatles_ ' security guard (effectively), and Neil Aspinall. It was for the boys' own safety, apparently... even from the top floor of the hotel - which was five floors high - we could hear the screaming of the girls.

I turned to Ringo, who was nursing his hangover - he had drunk more than I had the previous night.

"God!" I exclaimed, putting my hands over my ears, "how do you stand it?"  
"Happy thoughts," Ringo replied, flicking something shiny around his fingers. "They distract you."  
"Happy thoughts, huh?" I questioned. He nodded. I went to sit on his knee in the armchair which had become his residence since he said he didn't like lying in bed all day, and we couldn't sit on the bed because it wasn't made - something which annoyed Ringo quite a lot.

I perched on one knee as Ringo wrapped an arm around my body and blatantly looked down at my cleavage, which was obvious in the little slip of a dress which he had had somebody go and get for me in the early hours of the morning.

"Uh-huh." He answered.

"And what happy thoughts do you have?" I asked him, leaning my head on the top of his.

"Ones of the beautiful girl who, I hope, will one day be my wife." He paused, holding up what he had been fiddling with. It was a gold engagement ring with a large ruby set into its head. I gasped when I saw it, staring at it. It was so beautiful. "Eleanor," he said began. My heartbeat quickened as I realised what he was going to ask me, "I can't lose you again. And I know that you have to go back to 2021 and finish school and that it will be _years_ before we can make this official," he paused again, "but it would mean everything to me if you would promise to be my wife."

I beamed as I turned to him. He was looking into my dark eyes. I pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then took the ring from him, placing it on my wedding ring finger. 

"Is that a yes?" He asked me cheekily.

I giggled and then placed a hand on either side of his face, bringing our lips together as I nodded against him. When I pulled away, I said, "I want to be your wife so much more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, Richard Starkey." I paused, "and if, after everything, you still want me, then I will marry you the day that you finish touring."  
"I'll always want you," Ringo promised me firmly.

I looked directly into his baby blue orbs and whispered, " _prove it_."

And so he picked me up and carried me to the bed, throwing me onto it as he climbed on top of me.

* * * * *

After the boys had finished performing that night, I was waiting for them backstage in my new deep ruby red dress. It was a little flashier than anything I had worn in the past, but Ringo had insisted on it.

He had said that it would match the precious ruby ring on my finger.

"Did you enjoy the show?" He asked me as soon as he had me in his arms.

I nodded eagerly, though I replied, "if those girls scream much louder, I think I'll go deaf!"

He chuckled and placed a kiss on my cheek. "Are you coming to Bristol with us?"  
I sighed. I had been thinking about my answer to this question since they'd gone on stage.

His face fell. "B-but we're _engaged_ -"  
"I know," I told him softly, "believe me, I know." I sighed. "But I have to get back."

"But why?" Ringo asked. "Couldn't you stay a few more days?"  
"I could, baby," I told him, "but it would make it all the more painful when I have to leave after that -"  
"I haven't had nearly enough time with you yet, birdie." He sounded so sad that it broke my heart.

"And I haven't had enough time with you, Ritch," I replied. "But I can't stay forever -"  
"Yet." 

I nodded. " _Yet_." I agreed.

He sighed. "When will you be back?"

I thought for a few seconds before I suggested, "why don't I visit you when I'm on a break from university?" I paused, "I'm off for Christmas from the 2nd December. Where will you be?"

"In London." He replied. "Or at Elsie and Harry's." Ringo paused. "We're off work from 10th November - tomorrow is our last show - until the 24th December."

"Oh wow," I said excitedly, "I'll have you all to myself, then -"  
Ringo asked excitedly, "will you stay for Christmas?" He paused, "I'll be doing a show in London on Christmas Eve and then be heading straight to Liverpool for Christmas Day. The day after, I have another show in London, so I'll have to be back, but -"

"Three weeks with you, Richard Starkey?" I replied. "I can't wait."

He placed a chaste kiss on my lips. "I'll meet you at mum and dad's on Christmas Eve."

"Are you going to tell them about our engagement?"  
He smirked, "not until you're beside me, baby."

I beamed. "Will you ask Neil to drive me back to Liverpool?" 

Ringo replied, "flash him that ring and say that I said he had to. He'll take you home, no question."

I kissed him once more before I felt tears roll down my cheeks. When I pulled away, Ringo chuckled, wiping them away. "Not long, and you'll be back in my arms."  
"I'll be where I belong."

He nodded. "By my side." He agreed.   
"I love you, Mr Starkey."

"I love you more, Mrs Starkey."

I giggled, slapping his arm playfully. "Not yet!"

"Soon," Ringo promised me. "Now go and find Neil - _before_ he gets too involved in a game of cards to drive."

"Give the boys my love." He nodded and smiled, waving to me as I hurried off to find _The Beatles_ ' roadie.


	29. Chapter 29

Neil dropped me at the entrance of Admiral Grove, making me promise that I would be okay before he turned the car around and headed towards Bristol and the boys. I walked to number forty-two, Michelle's house, and then touched my locket which I had not removed from around my neck since the day that Annabelle had given it to me.  
  
  


Within seconds, I was back in 2021. It was dark outside, just as it had been when I had left. As normal, no time had passed in the present whilst I was in the past. I was in my room, the photo album still in my lap. I looked at the photos in it and had half a mind to just scrap it all and join the boys in Bristol. I looked down at my left hand and saw the ruby engagement ring still on my fourth finger. My heart skipped in excitement when I thought of the future that I was going to have with _Ringo Starr._

And then I noticed what I was wearing; not the pyjamas which I'd been in when I had gone back in time, but rather the beautiful red dress which I had been wearing when I'd been in 1964. I thought back to what had happened before I'd come back to 2021 and realised that I was clutching the dress in one hand whilst I stroked the locket with the other. I was glad that I still had the dress on because it would have been a shame to lose it - every time I went back and forward in clothes, I never knew what happened to them - save Ringo's shirt, which had come home with me.

I put the photo album back inside of his shirt and wrapped it up tightly before I moved it back to its old resting in place in the built-in wardrobe. I took a deep breath afterwards and decided to go downstairs and show the girls my engagement ring - they'd be overjoyed!

I could hear that they were in the kitchen, so I walked downstairs slowly, trying not to trip down the stairs in my floor-length dress and high heels. I remembered how delighted I had been when Neil Aspinall had arrived at our hotel room door earlier that day with the outfit, a proud smile on his face as Ringo had praised him and said that he had good taste.

I stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "Hey!" I enthused.

Lucy and Michelle both turned to look at me, their eyes widening and mouths falling open as soon as they took in what I was wearing. "Wow." They chorused.

They were sitting at the kitchen table. Lucy got up and came over to me, "where did you get that?" She asked, "it's gorgeous! And _so_ 1960s! I love it!"

"It's beautiful." Michelle agreed. "It must have cost you a fortune!"  
"Well," I said, trailing off, "actually, it cost _Ritchie_ a fortune..." I held up my left hand. It took them a few seconds to notice the golden ring, but when they did, they both squealed.

"IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS!?" Lucy shouted so loudly that I wondered if Ringo could hear her back in 1964.

I grinned, nodding eagerly. "I'm getting married!"  
"What?!" Michelle exclaimed, coming over to us, "when!? How!? Who _to_?!"  
"You remember that guy, Ritchie?" They nodded. "Well, it's him -"  
"When?" Lucy asked me, "can I be your maid of honour?"  
"Luce, actually, it won't be for a while." I paused, "after August 1960 -" I cut myself off, hoping that they wouldn't question it, "after August 2023. I want to be out of uni first."

"Ahh!" Lucy squealed, "I can't believe that our best friend is _engaged_ and we haven't even met him yet!"  
I laughed, slightly uncomfortably. I knew that they could never meet my Ringo, and that made me sad. It had taken me a little while to get used to them, but now I didn't know what I would do without Lucy and Michelle - they really _were_ my best friends -

"One day." I promised them, "one day you'll meet him."

"Is he from around here?"  
I came up with a slight lie, "well he is," I replied, "but he travels a lot - and he lives in London when he isn't travelling."

Michelle was staring at the ring on my finger. "This looks precious."

"It is." I told her, hoping that she meant only in sentimental value.

"No," she said. I wanted to sigh - _of course,_ she would notice that it was real. "I think this is real... God, gold _and_ rubies? It must have cost him a bomb."  
I smiled, wanting to tell them that Ringo could definitely afford the ring. Instead, I nodded. "It must have done." I agreed.   
"He must be really serious about you."  
"I hope I find somebody who loves me enough to buy me a ring like that!" Lucy said dreamily, clasping her hands together and prancing around the kitchen like a lithe fairy.   
I giggled and Michelle sighed at our friend. "You will, Luce." Michelle and I chorused.   
"I just found mine a little sooner." I added.   
"Well," Michelle said as she hugged me, "we can't wait to meet the man who makes our little Ellie's head spin!"  
I giggled and hugged her back. Lucy joined in. "He's definitely special." I told them.


	30. Chapter 30

_2nd December 1964_

I stood in front of Elsie and Harry's house. It was about eight at night, and I had no idea if Ringo would be at his parents' house yet. I didn't know what time he'd arrive, but I figured that I couldn't leave it any longer. I went up to the front door and knocked.

I expected Elsie, or even Harry, to open the door... instead, Ringo was there, a wide smile on his face when he saw me standing on the doorstep.

He embraced me before he placed a soft, doting kiss on my lips. "I missed you," he said, nuzzling his nose against the side of my own one. "Did you miss me?"  
"Of course I did," I promised him. He took my left hand in his and looked at the ring.

"You're still wearing it." He sounded surprised.

"Did you expect me to not?" I asked him, "it's beautiful, and I love it... and I love you." I kissed him again before I exclaimed, "come on! I want to tell your parents.

I hurried past Ringo and into the living room where Harry and Elsie were - both of them grinning when they saw me. Elsie was the first out of her seat exclaiming, "Ellie!" She took me into her arms and then Harry did the same.

"We're so glad you're here!" Harry exclaimed.

Ringo was standing behind me, leaning against the door frame, watching the scene in front of him. When Elsie and Harry retook their seats, I turned to him. He came into the room and looped an arm around my waist, bringing me over to the settee where he pulled me down with him. I landed on his lap and I giggled, no longer worried about what Elsie and Harry thought of us both - but more importantly of me - since one day, Ringo and I would be Mr and Mrs Starkey.

Ringo took my left hand in his and held it up for his mother to see, "I told you I'd do it one day, didn't I?" He paused and kissed my cheek. "I told you I'd make a wife out of this one!"  
Elsie squealed in delight, clapping her hands together as she exclaimed, "wonderful! When is the date?!"  
"August," I told her.

"Next year? That's such a long time to wait -"  
"No," I interrupted, "August 1966... I wanted to wait until _after_ university before we tied the knot."

"Well, you could get married and finish university, Ellie darling." Elsie pointed out.

"She couldn't really, Elsie," Ringo said, agreeing with my silent statement. "If we got married then I'd want her by my side every day and night, and it just wouldn't be possible for her to be at school _and_ with me."

I joined my other hand with Ringo's, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "But," I said, turning briefly to Elsie and Harry, "good things come to those who wait."  
Ringo nodded in agreement, "indeed they do... is dinner ready yet, Elsie?"

Mrs Graves left the room to go and check on dinner. We both turned to Harry when she was gone, who was beaming.

"Congratulations to the both of you."  
"Thank you, Mr Graves -"

"Ellie," Harry said, "Ritch told us of your situation... about your parents?" I was silent. "Well, darling, you're part of our family now, so I wanted to let you know that I'm here for you, and Elsie is too... and if you wanted to call us mum and dad, or Elsie and Harry then we're fine with whatever -"

I had thrown myself at him, knocking the words from his mind. Ringo chuckled as he watched his stepfather be surprised.

"Thank you," I said quietly into his ear, knotting my arms around his neck. "You have no idea what those words mean to me... _dad_."

Harry smiled as he hugged me back. When Elsie came back into the room to announce that dinner was done and waiting for us on the table, I let go of Harry and looked at Elsie.

She smiled, "he told you then, dear?" I nodded.

"He did, mum."  
Ringo looked overjoyed at the reception that our engagement had received from his parents.

"So," Elsie said over dinner, "have you discussed the wedding at all?"  
"Oh," I said in surprise, "there wasn't really time - I had to rush back to school, and -"  
"And we don't get much time to talk on the phone." Ringo finished for me, pouring more gravy over the roast dinner which Elsie had lovingly cooked for us all to enjoy.

"Well, there's plenty of time." Elsie replied, "how long are you staying with Ritchie for before school starts again, Ellie?"  
"Um, about three or four weeks," I answered. "It depends on -"

"Oh!" Ringo exclaimed, dropping his knife and fork in excitement. He stood up and grabbed my arm, which had been resting at my side. He pulled me to my feet. "I forgot to show you!"

He pulled me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I giggled, all the while asking him what he was going to show me, but when he opened the front door and I saw a beautiful, expensive-looking car sitting outside of the house, I gasped.

Ringo smirked as he led me down the garden path so that I could get a better look at the car, "I passed my test." He told me proudly. "Tomorrow, I'm going to drive you to Carnaby Street and buy you all the clothes you could possibly want."

"Ritchie!" I giggled, turning in his arms so that our chests were flush together, "you don't have to -"

He cut me off with a soft kiss to my ready lips. "Only the best for my wife."

I giggled again, "not yet, Starkey!"  
"Soon."

I nodded once, laying my forehead against his, our noses pressed together as I whispered, "soon."

Soon couldn't come soon enough.


	31. Chapter 31

The next morning, I woke up in my fiance's arms in his bed in London.

"What're you doing awake?" I asked, surprised to find a pair of baby blue eyes looking down at me.

Ringo laid back down. He had previously been using his arm to prop his head up. He replied, "watching you sleep."  
"Y'know," I said, turning in the bed so that I could look at him, "in the twenty-first century, that's considered odd."  
"Do you not like me doing it?" He reached forward and stroked some black locks of hair away from my line of vision.

"I like you doing it," I told him honestly. 

"So," he said, getting out of the bed and going over to the wardrobe to pick out what shirt he would wear that day, "are you excited?"  
"For what?" I asked, now lying on my stomach so that I could watch him get ready for the day. 

"To go shopping." He looked through his wardrobe and held up a yellow dress... it looked familiar.

"Is that Louise Harrison's?!" I asked in disbelief, getting out of bed and going over to take the hanger from him.

"It's your's now," Ringo replied as he applied cologne, "when Geo visited Louise in August, I think it was, he told her all about you - she said that you could have everything she left in her wardrobe... of course, we didn't think you were coming back at the time, so everything is still back in Liddypool..." I held the dress in front of myself in the floor-length mirror which Ringo had in the corner of his room, "but George gave me this one and told me to take it home - 'just in case she comes home', he said."

I slipped the dress on and looked at myself in it. It seemed to fit better than it had the first time. "I love it!" I told him.

"I know you do." He replied, digging through the wardrobe again and pulling out a floppy straw hat. He put it on my head and I giggled, "you look lovely." He kissed my lips softly.

I took the hat off, "Ritch!" I laughed, "it's _December_... and you want me to wear a sunhat?" He handed me the bag which I had bought with me from 2021. It had my overnight bag in there, so I took the hat off and went to freshen up.

"You look beautiful no matter what you wear, birdie," he said, "you know that's the truth."

* * * * *

He had chosen to wear a disguise to Carnaby Street, but it didn't work very well. Almost everybody recognised him. He signed for everybody who asked, and it seemed that we were bombarded with fans who wanted to speak to him.

I had expected that we'd be chased through the streets of London, but it was nothing like that. Everybody seemed so nice and accommodating and polite. When we reached one particular shop, Ringo grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, shouting a quick apology to those who he had been speaking with.

"What is this place?" I asked him.

"This is Mary Quant's workshop," Ringo answered. "And, so Pattie tells me, is where the hippest trends are coming from."

"Pattie as in _Pattie Boyd_!?" I squealed. He nodded.

"George's new bird." He shrugged, "they seem to like each other quite a lot -"

"Well, I didn't expect to see a _Beatle_ in here today!" Ringo and I turned in unison to see a woman with brown hair and a small face striding towards us. She held out her hand to Ringo. He shook it. "And I hear you know my Pattie."

"A friend's girlfriend," Ringo explained.

"How lucky for your friend." Mary Quant answered wryly as she turned to me. "Is this what I have to work with?" She asked in a stern tone, looking me over.

Ringo nodded. "My fiance, Eleanor." 

"Well, she's pretty, no doubt about that." She circled me. Ringo took a step back so she could get all the way around. I looked at him, but he gave a half-shrug, showing that he was helpless. Mary Quant continued to survey me, but she stopped when she was in front of me again. "And she has a trim figure... yes, I think she'll do quite nicely!"  
"Nicely?" I echoed. "For what?"

"The new line, dear!" She threw up her arms in celebration, "and it'll be done soon - thank God - it feels like I've been working on this one forever... now, I'm thinking if I put you in the sky blue dress with the bow, and Pattie in the deep red one with the belt, you'll make a lovely spread for _Vogue_ -"

Ringo laughed uncomfortably. "I think there's been a mistake." He paused, "I brought Ellie here to you today for a new wardrobe - not to be your next top model alongside the likes of Twiggy and Shrimpy." He paused, turning to me and lacing our hands together, "my intended is much too pretty for _them_."

Mary Quant sighed. "Pity... but should your lovely lady change her mind, then send her my way -"

" _If_ I change my mind, Miss Quant," I interrupted, feeling like I was being left out of the conversation, "then I shall let you know _myself_ \- Ringo," I shot him a look, "does not control me nor my work."

Mary Quant looked impressed. "Very well, dear," she said, "follow me."

She led us through her shop and up a staircase at the back of it. The upper floor of the building was a workshop and one that she and only a few designers were inhabiting.

She led us over to a desk with two chairs in front of it and gestured for us to sit down. We did, and she took her seat behind the desk. "Now," she said, taking out a portfolio, "you said that you wanted a _whole_ wardrobe?"

Ringo nodded. "My dear is not in London for long, and I want her to have the best whilst she is here."

Mary Quant nodded. "One of everything in the new line?"  
Ringo looked at me. "Have a look if you'd like, birdie." He gestured for Miss Quant to show me her designs. She handed me the portfolio and I glanced through it quickly, noting which designs I liked and which I didn't - all the while thinking how honoured I was to be looking at what I assumed were Quant original designs.

"They're all lovely." I told her, "but these are my favourites."  
She nodded and made a note of the design numbers. "In which colours?"  
I opened my mouth to reply, but Ringo declared, "all of them!"

Mary Quant made a note of that, raising a sceptical eyebrow at my eccentric fiance before she said, "we'll need to measure you."  
I nodded and she gestured for me to rise. She took a tape measure from a drawer of her desk and came round to measure me. Ringo watched, all the while giving instructions, "have them delivered to EMI Studios on Abbey Road." Mary Quant nodded. "And have it all charged to me via my manager -"

"Brian Epstein." Mary Quant finished for him. "We know who he is, Mr Starr."

"How soon can you have them done by?"

"They will be made as quickly as possible." Mary Quant assured him. 

"Yes," he said, "but how long will that take?" He asked her as we went to leave her studio.

"They'll be done by the second week in January -"

"But my love needs them sooner than that -"

"With Christmas and New Year, I am unable to ask any of my girls to work any faster." She paused, "we have clients ahead of you, Sir -"  
"But I am a _Beatle_ -" he pointed out, but she stopped him.

"And we have designs being made for the young Princess Ann," Mary Quant added. "Our clientele is richer than a Beatle, Mr Starr." That was the final straw for Ringo. Embarrassed, he stormed out. I followed in his wake, giving a small wave goodbye to Mary Quant as I left.

When we got back to the flat, Ringo was carrying several bags and boxes of clothes which he had bought for me that day - ones which didn't have to be made for me. The vast majority of them came from _Foale and Tuffin_ , a fashion line which I had always loved the look of.

As I went into the bedroom to try on some of the new outfits and to hang them all up, Ringo followed me in and sat on the end of the bed. He said, "you could stay here, y'know." He paused, "I'm thinking of moving out of the flat and getting a house - it's called _Sunny Heights_ \- and it's about a mile from where John lives with Cyn and Jules -"  
"I need to go back to 2021, Ritchie, and you know that."  
"But Mary Quant said she'd have you as a model for her." He reminded me, "you could have a job here, and -"

"But I want to do journalism." I reminded him, sighing as I fingered the expensive clothes which he had given me as a gift, "not model."

"Sometimes plans don't always work out, El."

"I have to finish school, Ritchie," I told him firmly. "You know that... and I'm not staying as long as you're touring, because none of the relationships which happen while you're all on the road last - and I want _us_ to last."

Ringo sighed. He knew that he wasn't winning this fight. Instead, he picked up a miniskirt which we'd got from _Biba_ , a new store in Kensington, but a line of clothes which was still around in the twenty-first century - albeit online. "I like this," he said.

I nodded in agreement. "It's lovely."

He sighed again and got off of the bed, handing the miniskirt to me. "Put the clothes away and then we'll have something to eat." I nodded and he left the room without another word.


	32. Chapter 32

_25th December 1964_

Ringo was a light sleeper, so to surprise him, I had to be incredibly quiet. I woke up an entire hour before I expected him to, and I did my makeup using a tiny little compact mirror before I donned my Christmas morning gift for him - sexy Santa lingerie, complete with the stupid bobble hat.

When I was ready, I climbed onto the bed and straddled his middle, slowly riding him until he regained consciousness. For a few seconds, he was groggy and slightly confused - but when his beautiful blue eyes realised what was happening - and what I was wearing - they widened and his hands went to rest on either of my hips. I smirked as I reached down with my hands and placed them either side of his head, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Happy Christmas, Ritchie..." I whispered against his lips as I impatiently moved the blanket down his body until it was covering from his knees down.

"Well good morning to you, too." He said quietly, not wanting to wake his parents up, who were asleep in the next room. "Where did you get this?" He reached up with one hand to stroke the faux fur which outlined my breasts.

I giggled quietly and moved one of my hands to my breasts, slipping out of the straps which held the bra up. I then moved a hand behind me to unclasp the bra and threw it behind me on the floor. When my breasts were on full display, he gasped in disbelief and immediately his two hands moved from where they were to my tits. He clasped at them as if they were precious jewels, rubbing sensually at my nipples which were growing harder in the harsh winter air of Liverpool. Momentarily, I thought back to the last Christmas that I had had - sitting on the doorstep of the building where he was living, just begging for him to come home... this Christmas was _so_ much better than the last one. 

"2021 has some things that 1964 doesn't..." I replied. I licked a thin, sensual line from the corner of his lips to his earlobe. I nipped gently at the skin before I whispered, "time to unwrap the rest of your present..."

He growled in delight as one of his hands slipped down to the red lace panties which I had on. "If this is what you have in 2021, then I think we should move there after we get married."  
I giggled and began to hump him more, delighting in the erection which was poking into my thigh, barely concealed by the thin material of the boxer shorts which he had slept in.

We had arrived early that morning after a successful show at the Hammersmith Odeon in London - and was due back in London the next day for another show there... so I was determined to make the most of the family Christmas which I had been offered. It was what I had always wanted, but what I had never got; in Christmases past, it had always been my dad and me... but here, I could have a Christmas with a mum (Elsie), a dad (Harry), and my loving fiance - everything was going to be perfect -

I was shocked from my thoughts as Ringo pushed a thick digit into my willing hole, my panties now gone from my legs - ripped off and thrown onto the floor. As he worked his finger in and out of me, I rode it fiercely, already so close to my first orgasm that I could feel my mind unravelling already.

I whimpered, biting my lip as I willed myself to stay quiet. I knew that there was no way that Elsie and Harry could hear us.

"Cum for me, birdie," Ringo whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

Obediently, I did just that. I came, and Ringo had to clamp his large hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming out his name. There was a smirk on his face as he pushed me down onto the bed, feet against the headboard. He climbed on top of me and forced my legs apart. He sat back for a few seconds and looked at my cunt, leaking my arousal and pleasure.

"All mine," he growled as his finger - a different one to that which had previously brought me to orgasm - stroked my folds and collected some of my cum. I whimpered, feeling sensitive. My cunt clenched around nothing. Ringo smirked again as he sucked on the finger which had been stroking me. He sucked the juices off before he said, "time to take my girl." He took his thick cock from his boxer shorts and my eyes widened in delight.

I never understood how I managed to take it all inside of me. He was the largest which I had ever been with, and definitely the thickest.

But I was delighted with him, so I spread my legs as far as I could before it hurt and silently promised myself that I would keep them there. Ringo lined himself up at my hole and looked directly into my dark eyes as he pushed in, stretching me as far as I would go.

He sandwiched our lips together as he continued to fill me up, aware that I usually gasped and squirmed and begged for him to go faster and stop all at once - it was uncomfortable for the first minute every time we had sex because I had to accustom myself to his size.

When I was ready for him to move, I lifted up my hips and made small circular motions as best I could, moving him around inside of me. Ringo pushed my body back down against the mattress and took charge, pulling out of me before he pushed back in, repeating these actions until his cock was pulsing inside of me and my cunt clenching so tightly that I knew we would both cum in unison.

"Ready?" He asked me. I nodded eagerly. With a smirk on his beautiful face, Ringo reached between us and thumbed my nub until I orgasmed for the second time, my pussy holding his member and milking every last drop of delicious liquid from it. He filled me up and the warm feeling which came with his cum was amazing. I squealed in delight as I squeezed him dry. Predictably, because he was a passionate and energetic lover, he collapsed next to me on the bed and pulled me into his arms. He kissed the top of my head. "Who would have thought that there'd ever be a girl who could drive me crazy as you do?"  
I smiled, desperately wanting to drift off back to sleep... but knowing that there was something I had to do first. I wriggled out of his arms and dashed across the room - naked - and reached into the bag which had accompanied me from 2021. I pulled out his present and then hurried back to him, goosebumps rising on my skin as the cool air touched me.

Ringo opened his arms and I jumped back into them. He held me tightly but I held up his present in front of us as we were both on our backs. "This is for you." He took it from me slowly and undid the envelope which it was housed in. He took out his present and saw that it was a photograph.

"This is..."

"It's us." I told him. "It's the photo that I took the other morning in bed." He nodded, remembering. "But it's more special than that - I spoke to Annabelle while I was in Liverpool last month, and she said that she could make it so that you could visit me."

"In 2021?"  
"In the twenty-first century," I confirmed. "So you could use this next year as well!"  
He grinned. "It's the best gift you could have given me!" He pressed a loving kiss to my lips and I giggled.

"But Annabelle said that we had to go and see her before it could be used," I said in a warning tone. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have anything to bring you back -"

He cut me off with a kiss to my lips again. "We'll go to her later." He promised. "I want this done as soon as possible, and I don't know when we'll be back again." He paused, "do you want your present?" I nodded eagerly and he turned, reaching under his bed with one hand and bringing out something.

It was a thin box with a golden bow on top. He handed it to me and I undid the bow. I opened the box and my mouth fell open when I saw what was inside. "Oh wow..."

"Do you like it?" He asked nervously. "I know you're not that into big jewellery, but it matches your ring, and -"

It was a gold and ruby necklace which did indeed match my engagement ring.  
"Oh, Ritchie..." I trailed off as I fingered the beautiful necklace. "You shouldn't have bought this for me, it must have cost you so much money -"

"You're worth every penny, birdie." He replied, "and besides," he added, "what's mine is your's - and I wanted to give you something special... something that is worthy of your beauty."

I couldn't help but smile. It really was beautiful. It was elegant and precious and meant more to me than anything than I had ever been given before - save my engagement ring.

"I love it," I told him.

"Will you wear it today for me?" He took it out of the box and gestured for me to sit up. I nodded. He draped my long, black hair over one of my shoulders and undid the clasp of the necklace, placing it around my neck before he did it up again. As soon as his hands came around my body and rested against my bare breasts, I smirked.

 _Boys will be boys_.

And my boy most definitely loved my body.

I touched the necklace, the rubies cold against my chest. "It's so beautiful."

"Not nearly as much as you are, Ellie." He promised me as he got out of bed and went over to the bag which I had repacked before we had left London for Liverpool for the night.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm taking a photo." I blushed. 

"But I'm naked!" I cried quietly, not wanting his parents to hear us.

He shrugged as he looked into the camera. "It'll only be for us." He promised, "for me to look at while I'm on tour, or in London without you in my arms." That convinced me.

"Well, okay then..." I laid back on the bed. "How do you want me?"

"Just spread your legs a little bit..." I did as I was told, "and touch yourself." I put a finger to my clit and rubbed it slowly, sensually. "Uh-huh," he approved, "now spread your legs more so that I can see my pretty little pussy..."

I didn't hear what else he said. His words were doing something crazy to me, and I was completely at his mercy.

In that moment, all I wanted was to marry him. I wanted to be able to call myself his wife, and I wanted to give him everything; love, support, children and so much more.

"Now bite your lip..."

I did as I was told.

The photographer - _my photographer_ \- snapped the photo and smirked, putting the camera down on the set of drawers behind him. I noticed a very visible erection - well, he wasn't wearing anything, so of course, I noticed his hard rod against his stomach.

I giggled and spread my legs more, speeding up my finger. He growled as he came towards the bed, "I think I'll develop that photo myself..."

And before I knew it, he was buried inside of me once more.


	33. Chapter 33

"Good morning to the two of you!" Elsie beamed as we came downstairs and stood side-by-side in the kitchen.

"Morning!" Ringo and I chorused.

"Are those what I think they are?" He asked excitedly, moving towards the stove. He reached out for a rasher of bacon in the pan, but Elsie playfully slapped her son's ringed hand away. He clasped it to his chest, pretending to be hurt before he hobbled over to me, clearly acting. 

"She hit me!" He held up the hand, "do you think it's broken, El?"  
I took it in my hands, playing along. "Ooh," I hissed, narrowing my eyes at it, "I think it might be."

He wailed loudly and Elsie and I giggled. Harry, from the living room, exclaimed, "Ritchie! Stop that noise!"

Ringo giggled and put his 'injured' hand to his mouth to hide the noise. Elsie and I laughed more loudly at Harry's response.

"Merry Christmas to the two of you," Elsie said when we had recovered ourselves. "I'll plate these bacon sandwiches and then we'll give our presents -"

"Oh!" Ringo exclaimed in reply, "actually mum, we were just about to head to Penny Lane -"

"But it's Christmas Day," Elsie reminded us, "nothing will be open -"  
"We're just going for a walk," I assured her. "We'll be back rather quickly -"  
"What if you get recognised?" She turned to Ringo. "You could get chased through the streets of Liverpool -"

"On Christmas Day?" He asked her. Elsie didn't reply. "Come on, Elsie... who's going to be out? It's like you said - nothing will be open."

She eyed us both suspiciously but quickly gave in. "Just make sure you're back in time for dinner."

Ringo and I nodded in unison. "We'll be back." We chorused.

* * * * *

After breakfast, we set off for Penny Lane, the photo of us safely tucked inside of Ringo's jacket. We had decided to walk because we wanted the extra time to talk to each other, and we wanted each other's undivided attention, which we wouldn't have if Ringo was driving.

Unlike the twenty-first century, on Christmas Day, the roads and paths were quiet, and we saw nobody, so it was almost like we were a normal couple - not one of the most famous men in the world and a girl from the twenty-first century.

"Can we talk about afterwards?" He asked me. I nodded. "Like, after we get married?"

I nodded again, "one year and eight months." I reminded him, "it's not that long, really."  
"What kind of wedding do you want?" I thought for a second. "Because whatever you want, you can have - I've got the money, and if we're going to do this, then we should do it right - it should be perfect."  
I smiled, "and it will be," I reassured him, "you don't need to spend loads of money on the wedding. Quite frankly, we could get married in a cardboard box with Haribo as our rings, and I wouldn't care." I stopped and turned to him, placing my lips gently against his. I pulled away after a few seconds afterwards, "as long as I got to marry you, everything would be perfect."  
Ringo blushed and I giggled. He laced our hands together as we continued to walk towards Penny Lane.

"Can I ask you about children?"

That question caught me off guard, but I should have expected it. I turned to him, "o-of course."

"Do you want them?"  
I nodded. "Of course I do," I replied. "I love children... I think."

Ringo chuckled. "All my life, every woman around me has had babies - I can't wait to be able to say the same of my wife." He put a hand on my stomach and I giggled.

"Not yet, Richard Starkey!" I declared, wriggling away from his hand.

"Boys or girls?"  
"As many of each!" I told him eagerly. He laughed. "What are we going to call them?"

"One, two, three and four!" Ringo laughed again. I elbowed him and he went to grab at my hips to tickle me, but I ran ahead a little to escape him. I loved being in his company - especially when we were alone - we could act like young teenagers in love, giddy with excitement. It was magical, there was no doubt about that. "I'm just joking," he giggled, catching up to me and slapping my arse on the way. I gasped and went to grab his, but he twisted away from me at the last moment.

We continued to play like children until we got to Penny Lane, the familiar sign of 'Penny Lane Antiques' just ahead of us.


	34. Chapter 34

"Back again already, I see." Annabelle was standing behind the counter when Ringo and I walked in, hand-in-hand. I smiled and led Ringo over to the counter.

"I just couldn't stay away," I answered sarcastically, though not unkindly.

"Obviously." Annabelle smirked, "did you bring the photograph?" Ringo nodded and took the photograph from the inside pocket of his jacket. He unfolded it and then put it into Annabelle's open palm. She looked at it and a small smile slipped onto her face.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her. "The photo is good to use, right?"

Annabelle looked away from the photo and nodded. "Yes," she said with a sigh, "it's good." She waved a hand over it and then held it out for Ringo to take.

He did, somewhat hesitantly. "Was that it?" He refolded the photo and tucked it back into the pocket of his jacket.

"Indeed," Annabelle replied. "Is there anything else?"

She looked at me. "Um," I bit my lip, wondering if my attitude was too much for Annabelle to take... but I decided very quickly that she could take it. "How is he going to get _back_?"

"Ah!" She exclaimed. "Yes, good point..." she looked around for something which she could use, but then she stopped when she noticed one of his hands resting against the glass counter. "That will do wonderfully."

He had a large golden signet ring on his little finger. He followed her line of gaze down to his ring. "Oh, uh..." 

"You'll get it back," I assured him.

Ringo looked at me and then sighed, biting his lip as he took the ring from his finger and somewhat reluctantly put it in Annabelle's open hand.

Once again, she waved one bony finger over it and then held it out for him to take... but I got there before he did. I took the ring and his left hand. I kissed the top of the ring and then slipped it into his fourth finger. "I'll marry you, Richard Starkey," I said quietly, wishing that we were alone and Annabelle was far away.

Ringo blushed before he coughed uncomfortably, though there was a wide smile on his face. He obviously wished that Annabelle was gone as well.

"So, uh..." Ringo trailed off, "how does it work?"

"The same as Eleanor's does," Annabelle answered in a tone that implied her answer should have been obvious. "Touch the photo and you'll go back, twist the ring twice around your finger and you'll be taken home." She paused for dramatic effect, "and congratulations."

"Thank you." We chorused. 

"Well," I said, "if that's all..."  
"It is," Annabelle told me.

"Merry Christmas, Annabelle." Ringo held out his arm for me to take.

I took it, but before we began to leave the shop, I said, "merry Christmas, Annabelle... thank you for everything that you've done for me. It's because of you that I have all of this." I gestured to Ringo.

Affectionately, Annabelle smiled, cocking her head to one side. "No, dear," she said, "it's because of your daddy."

Ringo led me out of the shop before another word could be said. It was the perfect way to end our meeting.

On the way back to Harry and Elsie's, Ringo asked me, "so how long are you staying for?"  
"Oh," I asked, somewhat uncomfortably. "I hadn't really thought about -"  
"Please tell me that you'll stay until after New Year."

"After New Year?" I echoed. He nodded. "This is turning into a longer and longer holiday." I teased.

Ringo nodded. "I'm hoping," he said, "that I can hang it out until August 29th 1966." 

I giggled, unable to resist. Ringo Starr made me laugh in ways which I hadn't before, and feel in ways that I didn't know were possible.

All of those reasons - and more - were what made me sure... I was in love with him.


	35. Chapter 35

When we got back to Elsie and Harry's, we were both freezing cold with red-tipped noses like Rudolph and wide smiles on our faces like jolly Santas. They must have heard us coming up the path because Harry opened the door for us.

"Merry Christmas!" He exclaimed, embracing us both. 

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Ringo grinned, embracing his stepfather back.

And then it was my turn. Harry took me into his arms. "Merry Christmas... _Dad_."

Harry smiled when he pulled away, holding me at arm's length. "And I'm so happy that you're here." He beamed and hugged me again. "Now," he said, clapping his hands in excitement, "Elsie tells me that it's time for the presents!"  
"Oh!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Let me run upstairs and get your's -"

I went to go upstairs, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned to Ringo. "I'll go," he said, "I have to put the photo away anyway."  
"The photo?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the two of us.

"It's something we took a while ago," I explained quickly, "and Ritchie usually carries it around with him, but it got ripped while we were out earlier, so he's going to go and put it away so that we can still get a copy of it when we get back to London."  
 _Good cover_ , I told myself.

When Ringo got back downstairs, he came into the living room. We were all in there, and Elsie had made a cup of hot chocolate for Ringo and I. I handed his to him as he sat on the settee beside me, one arm immediately going around my shoulders and the other taking the mug from me.

"How was your walk?" Elsie asked.

"It was lovely," Ringo replied. "And how was your time _alone_ with Harry?" He teased.

"Eh!" Harry exclaimed, wagging a thick finger at his stepson, "none of that cheek!"  
Ringo, Elsie and I laughed, and Harry quickly joined in.

It was time to give parents.

"First, from Harry and I," Elsie said as she reached under the small Christmas tree which resided in the corner of the living room of 10 Arnold Grove, Liverpool. She pulled out a soft-looking present for Ringo, wrapped in a red paper. Elsie held it out to him, he thanked her and took it. Eagerly, he pulled off the paper and then held up his present; a jumper, hand-knitted by the looks of it.

"Gee," he said, turning to his mother, "it's lovely... thanks, mum." I hadn't heard him call her mum before. I wondered if it was only something he did in quiet family moments... I'd have to ask him about it later.

Next, Elsie pulled out another present from under the tree. "And for the newest member of our family..." she handed it to me. I beamed and took it, carefully taking the paper off, which was in contrast to Ringo.

This present was also soft, though considerably smaller than Ringo's jumper. When I had the paper off, I held up the present; a woollen blanket... also hand-knitted. But it wasn't for me, I realised quickly - it was a baby blanket.

I blushed. Ringo, who had finished his hot chocolate and had put the mug on the floor by his feet, facepalmed with the hand which wasn't resting on my shoulder.

"Elsie," he said, "why did you -"  
"I'm not pregnant," I confirmed.

Elsie said excitedly, "I was knitting gifts, and I thought of what I could make for you -"

"We're definitely not having a baby," Ringo promised her. "Not until after we're married -"

"Well, we look forward to the day that you are, Ellie dear." His mother answered. "And we want you to use this blanket when the baby arrives - it's grey at the moment, but when it's born, I'll embroider it with a pink or blue ribbon!"

I blushed again and Ringo sighed. There was nothing which we could do in this situation to not offend Elsie. It was, despite the fact that it was premature, a lovely blanket - and when Ringo and I had children (because I was certain that it would happen), I was glad that they would know how much their grandmother loved them.

I took a deep breath and carefully folded up the blanket, rewrapping it in its paper. "Thank you, Mum," I said. "It's lovely. I can't wait to use it!" 

And that was the truth.

In an effort to break the tension, Ringo looked between Elsie and Harry before he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, the same one which he had kept the photograph in earlier that day.

He brought out an envelope and handed it to Harry. "From both El and I." He explained as Harry opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper which was inside. He skimmed through it and his eyes widened before he turned to Ringo and me.

"A house?" He asked in surprise. Ringo and I nodded.

We had spoken about what to buy his parents for Christmas when I'd first arrived earlier that month - and we'd come to the decision to buy a bigger, nicer house in a better area of Liverpool.

"It's close to where John's Aunt Mimi lives," Ringo explained, "he said it was a nice area and the estate agent assured me that this was the nicest house on the market in Liverpool."

Harry showed the deeds to the house to his wife who read them through. 

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"But if we're in Liverpool and you're in London," Elsie said in reply as she looked away from the papers in her hands, "how will we see the children?"

"Children?" I echoed in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

"Our grandchildren!" Elsie replied in a tone that implied she thought her answer should have been obvious.

"Elsie," I said in a measured tone, trying to conceal the irritation in my voice, "I'm not pregnant -"

"We'll bring them up for some holidays." Ringo promised. Elsie and Harry moved closer together and pored over the deeds. While they weren't paying attention, Ringo turned to whisper in my ear, "it's best to just agree with her - you won't win the argument."  
"We're not arguing." I told him in an irritated tone, "I just wish that your mother would stop calling me fat -"

"She didn't call you fat." 

"She keeps implying that I'm pregnant." I reminded him, pushing the baby blanket into his lap before I crossed my arms against my chest. "Ergo, she thinks that I look pregnant, therefore she's implying that I'm fat!" With tears in my eyes, I stood up and hurried up the stairs.


	36. Chapter 36

The door to Ringo's childhood bedroom was pushed open. I saw that he was standing in the doorway, a glass of red wine in either of his hands. 

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of one hand and then said, "hey..."

"Hey," he said in a sympathetic, soft tone. He came into the room and kicked the door closed behind him before he joined me on the bed. Ringo held out a glass of wine to me and I managed to let out a grateful laugh as I took it.

"Thanks."  
"You look like you need it." He paused, "do you want to tell me what that was about downstairs?"  
I sipped at the wine before I answered, "well, it wasn't about your mother inadvertently calling me fat, I can tell you that much."  
"Oh good," he replied wryly. "I'll let her know."  
I chuckled. "I think it was more about me not liking your mother dropping not-so-subtle hints." I paused, "she obviously wants grandchildren very much."

Ringo nodded, "ever since I was a child, it's all she's gone on about - I used to think that she had me just so that she could have them."

"I don't think that's true," I told him.

"Well I don't think that you're fat." He smirked. "I actually think that you're perfect - in my eyes, you'd never be anything different."  
I smiled affectionately at my fiance, "thanks, Ritchie."  
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "You're beautiful. Don't let my mother make you feel bad for not giving her six grandchildren already - she'll get over it."

I looked at him sarcastically, "she gave me a handknitted baby blanket as a Christmas present." I reminded him. "I think that she's already picked out nicknames for them."  
Ringo laughed and the sound warmed me through. His laugh was beautiful, and somehow filled the entire room despite not being a physical entity. I watched him for a few seconds before he stopped, looking at me in confusion. "Is something wrong, birdie?"  
I shook my head, unable to stop myself from smiling as I explained, "I just love you, that's all."

"Well, I love you, too."

"I know."

"I'm sorry that she made you feel pressured." Ringo said, "Elsie has a way of making people do what she wants." He paused, "but we're taking this slowly and at our own pace."

I nodded. "I couldn't agree more." I held out my glass of wine, which was nearly empty, "a toast," I said, "to taking things at our own pace."

He grinned and clinked his glass against my own, the red liquid sloshing around in either one. "And to the beautiful children which we're going to have."  
I nodded again. "And to our beautiful children."

We drank from our glasses, holding the other's gaze. 

"Richard," I said, "and Moira."  
"Moira?" He raised an eyebrow at me, "that's very old-sounding - I can't imagine it's popular in the twenty-first century."

"It's not." I said, "but I think that Moira Starkey sounds beautiful, don't you?"

Ringo nodded. "She'll be a daddy's girl, I'm sure."

"Of course she will be." I agreed. "And so will our other daughters be."

He smirked. "You're keeping me busy."

I smirked in response before I replied, "in more ways than one..."  
Ringo threw his head back and laughed, his laughter once again filling up the room and brightening my soul and smile. When he stopped, he said, in a very serious tone, "keep bringing those little outfits of your's from 2021 and we've got a deal."

I giggled. "I make no promises."

"Dinner's ready!" Elsie called from downstairs.

Ringo and I smiled adoringly at each other before we stood up at the same time, swapped our wine glasses to our outer hands and then joined our other hands together.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful birdie." Ringo said softly.

"Merry Christmas, Ritchie." I replied in the same tone.


	37. Chapter 37

_27th December 1964_

Back in London on 27th December, Ringo and I were in his bed in each other's arms. They'd had to perform the previous evening, but today was their day off.

"I was thinking," Ringo said, "we didn't celebrate Christmas with the others."  
I hummed in agreement, "that's true."  
"So why don't we have a party tonight?"  
"A party?" I asked excitedly, turning in his arms to look at him, "what kind of party?"  
"Well," he said, "a Christmas party would be appropriate." He dropped a soft kiss on my lips. "What do you think?"  
I grinned, "a Christmas party sounds amazing - and with the boys? Even better!"  
Ringo chuckled. "They'll bring their girls, I suppose." He mused, "wait until you meet Pattie - she's George's girlfriend -"  
"Pattie _Boyd_?!" I exclaimed in disbelief and excitement, climbing out of his arms and kneeling in front of him wearing just the scanty lingerie which he had said was the only 'only pieces that the store had'. I knew he was lying, but I didn't care.

I loved that he wanted to see me in pretty lingerie. It made me feel good, and I made him feel good in turn.

* * * * *

"Hi, Geo -" 

"Hi!" The blonde on George's arm exclaimed excitedly, cutting me off. I smiled at her.

"Hello," I replied, "you must be -"

"Pattie Boyd!" She exclaimed excitedly, "and you're Ringo's girlfriend?"

She let go of George's arm. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from George. I loved Pattie Boyd - I'd read her autobiography in 2020, and ever since then I'd been obsessed - she was so fashionable! 

"Actually," I said excitedly but quietly, holding up my left hand, "I'm his fiance!"  
Pattie gasped and grabbed my hand examining the ruby ring on my hand and squealing in excitement. "No way!" I nodded eagerly. "We can be like sisters!"

I smiled. "That'd be nice -"  
"You _must_ let me take you to Carnaby Street - I model for _Vogue_ , but I'm currently looking for some other work -"  
"Ritchie and I already went to Carnaby Street," I replied, "Mary Quant said that she'd have me as a model, but I turned her down -"  
"Oh," Pattie's face fell, "why'd you do that?"  
"Pattie," Jane said kindly as she came up behind us, a glass of champagne in one of her perfectly manicured hands, "you're not stressing our dear Eleanor, are you?"

Pattie's smile fell from her pretty face and she looked down at the floor. "No, I -"

"Good." Jane sipped at her champagne before she said, "now, go and get yourself a drink - you need it, dear."

Pattie sighed and walked off, giving me a small wave goodbye as she went to go and sit by George, helping herself to a pre-poured glass of champagne before she sat down.

"I'm Jane." She held out a hand to me.

"I was aware," I shook it hesitantly, "we've met."

"Oh have we?" Jane asked in a surprised tone.

I nodded. "September last year. Ritch and I were at the Ad Lib, and you came with Paul."  
Jane shook her head, "well I don't remember -"

"That's okay, Jane," I answered in a tone as sweet as sugarcane, patronising her. For the way she had treated Pattie, who was being nothing but nice, I disliked her immediately. "You didn't make much of an impression on me, either."  
"Why you -" Jane gritted her teeth at me, but I cut her off, holding up my engagement ring.

"Careful," I smirked, "engagement ring." I tapped the ring twice with my forefinger on my other hand, "that makes me more important than you at the moment, right? If you start on me, then I'll tell Ringo, who'll tell Paul, and before you know it, I bet pretty little Jane will be out on her pretty little arse."

Jane stamped her foot and turned on her heels, striding off with tears in her eyes.

"Hey," I felt two arms go round my middle. I jumped, though I knew who it was. I turned my head enough so that he could see me smiling at him. "What was that about?"  
"Nothing." I replied quietly, "I'm just glad that Paul doesn't stay with her."

Ringo chuckled before he pecked my cheek, "feel ready to tell the others yet?" I nodded eagerly. I spun out of his arms and went to go and get us two glasses of champagne. In the meantime, Ringo said, "so, uh, El and I have something to tell you all!" 

John, Paul, George, Jane, Cynthia, Pattie and me all turned to look at Ringo. I crossed the room and handed him a glass of champagne before I took my place beside him. Ringo looped an arm around my waist and pulled me even closer to his warm body. I beamed. It felt right to be beside him and in front of the others - on display as the future Mrs Starkey.

"El and I have known each other for over a year now," he said, "and we feel that we're quite serious." I nodded in agreement, locking my gaze with Jane, who was glaring at the two of us - and me, more specifically. "So I asked El to marry me - I know that we don't see a lot of each other now, but we're hoping that will change -"

John, Paul and George cheered. Cynthia grinned and rushed over to me give me a hug, and Pattie clapped her hands together as she squealed and jumped up and down in excitement.

"When are you getting married?" Cynthia asked as Pattie rushed over to join us.

"Oh," I said, watching as Ringo went to go and stand with the rest of the band, leaving Jane by herself in the middle of the room with only a mostly-empty glass of champagne for company, "not until the end of August 1966."

"Why leave it so soon?" Cynthia asked in surprise.

"Um," I trailed off, unsure of the exact answer to tell them. Quickly, however, something came to me and I said, "we're firm believers that good things come to those who wait - and I have to finish university, so it'll be after that."

"You finish in August 1966?" Pattie raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No, July," I paused, "but Ritchie and I want to live together for a little bit before we finally tie the knot."  
Cynthia smiled, embracing me once more. "Well, I can't wait! It'll be nice to have another wife around here for a change!"


	38. Chapter 38

_3rd January 1965_

Undoubtedly, I could get used to waking up in the arms of my Beatle, Ringo Starr. With him, everything was perfect and warm and loving, and I'd never felt the way I did for him before - not for anybody.

But I knew that it had to come to an end.

Ringo was sitting at the little circular dinner table in the middle of the small kitchen, reading a newspaper with a cup of tea in front of him when I came in.

"You're dressed." He said in surprise, glancing at me over the top of his paper, "are you going somewhere?"  
I sighed, grabbing a slice of bread from the open packet on the counter and putting it into the toaster. "I'm going home, Ritchie."

"What?" He asked in surprise, closing the paper and laying it on the table. He sat forward, staring at me with disbelief in his beautiful blue eyes, "why?"

"Because I've stayed for long enough, and when I get back, I have to relive Christmas, but this time it will be without you. I just want to get that over and done with." 

"But I want you here with me," Ringo replied glumly. "I love you, and this is where you belong -"  
"I'll belong here in a few years," I told him. "But right now, I belong with my roommates; Michelle and Lucy. We're supposed to be having Christmas with Lucy's parents in Chester -"

He looked so sad that it broke my heart to have to leave.

"But today's my day off -"

"Your first one of the New Year," the toast popped up. I took it and began to butter it, "I know. You should enjoy it -"

"But I wanted to enjoy it with you." Ringo paused. "Don't you want to be here with me?"

"Ritchie," I sighed, "don't try and guilt me into staying... we always knew this day would come."

"Just another week." He pleaded shamelessly.

I sighed again, biting into the toast. I chewed it and swallowed the bite, but as soon as I felt it sliding down the back of my throat, it felt wrong and made my stomach turn. I put the toast down on the side.

"I'd love to," I said honestly, "but it never stays at just one week, does it? Because in a week's time, we'll be having this exact same conversation -" I looked at his sad expression and my heart broke. "Ritch," I said, kneeling down so that I was a little shorter than him. I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes and wished that I could stay for good - but I had made myself a promise; I had to finish university, and he had to finish touring before I would stay. "Ritchie, you know that I have to go. You have stuff to be getting on with, and so do I." I paused, "August 1966 isn't _that_ far - eighteen months -"  
"It's twenty months away." Ringo interrupted. "And that's nearly two years - twenty months is a _long time_ , Ellie -"

"I'll come again before then," I promised.

"When?"

"Aren't you filming a new movie soon?" I asked him, remembering the masterpiece which was their 1965 soundtrack album, _Help!_

He nodded, catching onto what I was saying. "We're filming in the Bahamas from 23rd February - will you come then?" 

I nodded. "I can make it to the Bahamas for then - I have holidays starting on the 22nd February, anyway."

He grinned, "that's a date, then." I giggled in agreement. "I love you, El -"

I pressed my lips against his ones, placing a lingering kiss there. As we kissed, I stroked my necklace and was transported to 2021, leaving my heart in 1965.

* * * * *

"Where have you been?" Michelle asked when I came downstairs in 2021, wearing my pyjamas, which I always seemed to be in when I got back from a visit with Ringo.

"In my room -"

"For a month?" Lucy raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh..." I answered, confused. _Time had passed while I was gone?_

"No," I said, "I, um... I went to go and visit my uncle -"

"The Beatle one?" Lucy asked. 

I nodded, swallowing as I sat on the settee with them. "Yeah, him."

"But your stuff was still in your room -"

"I have some stuff at Uncle Paul's house." I said, "it's all fine - I didn't need to bring anything other than a phone charger."  
"Oh," Lucy smiled, "well, we missed you at Christmas -"

"Yeah," I agreed, "you too... so is it 2022?"

Michelle looked at me with a confused look on her face, but Lucy answered before Michelle could. "Yeah! Crazy, right? It feels like just a few months ago that we all moved in here together - did you see that fiance of your's while you were in London?"

I nodded, beaming as I spoke about Ringo. "Yep! We went to some clubs there, and then we took a trip to stay with his parents for Christmas -"

"I bet that was awkward," Michelle said, wincing. "Meeting the parents is never successful -"

"I actually happen to like them," I answered brightly. "They're nice, and they said I could call them mum and dad since I'm marrying their son and I don't have any parents of my own - and besides, it isn't the first time that I've met them."

Lucy smiled, throwing her arms around me. "We're just glad that you had a good Christmas and New Year - did he get you any presents?"

"He got me a -" I reached up to touch the necklace which he had bought me, but instead found that I was still wearing the locket. "He bought me a necklace to match my ring... but I guess I must have left it in London."

 _Damn_ , I thought, _why hadn't I brought anything back with me?_

Not that I needed the clothes which I'd taken to 1964 with me - but I did want that necklace.

"Aw, shame." Lucy pouted, "I would have liked to borrow it for my date with Brandon this weekend -"

Brandon was Lucy's newest boyfriend - she and Zeke had lasted about three months before they'd realised that they weren't compatible - and by that, I meant that they'd been on a date, and Zeke had asked her about baby names -

But Ringo and I spoke about baby names, and it was no big deal.

_Yes, but you're engaged - if you two get married, then it's likely that you'll have a child, or children, together. It's normal for engaged couples to talk about baby names._

I laughed, "Luce, it was so beautiful that _I_ didn't even want to wear it - I was too scared of losing it. It was real, after all."

Lucy smiled, staring dreamily off into the distance. "I wish Brandon would buy _me_ real jewels -"

"Maybe if you get engaged, he will," Michelle answered, laughing. "Giving real diamonds to a girl that you've only been going out with for two weeks is quite a big commitment -"

"It's not two weeks, Chelle." Lucy explained, turning to her friend, "it's two _and a half_."

The three of us laughed at what Lucy had said. I loved these two girls - in the twenty-first century, they were the only family I had.


	39. Chapter 39

_Sunday 13th February 2022_

I _hated_ being awake before anybody else. It meant that you had to sneak around the house silently, and you were basically obliged to make breakfast for those who were still sleeping. I was about to sit down and watch _Gossip Girl_ on my phone through Netflix, when there was a knock at the front door. 

I got off of the settee with a sigh. Who would be knocking so early in the morning? It was barely seven o'clock! I tugged the ties of my dressing gown tighter and went to the porch, opening the front door.

" _What are you doing here_!?" I exclaimed in surprise and delight when I saw my darling Ringo Starr on the doorstep.

"Visiting you, silly birdie." Ringo grinned as he stepped closer and then kissed me softly, pulling away quickly before he reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and showed it to me.

It was the photo which I had given him for Christmas - the one of us in bed which I had taken just days before the 25th.

"Y-you used the p-photo -"

"Of course I did." He smiled, "you gave it to me for a reason, didn't you?"

I nodded and smiled, gesturing for him to come into the house. "You'll have to be quiet though - my roommates are still asleep." He nodded and I led him into the kitchen. "So what are you doing here - I know that you didn't come just to visit me!"  
"Well I did," he replied, sitting down at the kitchen table while I put the kettle on for some tea, "but it's also St Valentine's Day tomorrow, so I thought I'd come and spend it with my valentine -"

"But it's tomorrow." I reminded him, unable to stop myself from gravitating towards him. It had been just over a month since we had seen each other last, but it had felt like an eternity. Every day that I spent with him made me want to ditch the twenty-first century altogether. My sweet Ringo.

"So I'm here for you today." He smiled. "Go get dressed - leave the tea - and we'll get a head off."  
I sat in his lap, "my roommates want to meet you." I told him.

"We'll be back later - I'm not leaving until tomorrow night if that's okay?"

I nodded. "Absolutely." I pecked his lips. "How are the boys?"

"They're all good." Ringo promised, "how have you been?"

"Missing you." He cocked his head and smiled adoringly. 

"I've been missing you too, El..." he pushed me gently off of his lap, "go and get dressed." I nodded again. As I went to go, he slapped my arse. I squealed in surprise and turned to him momentarily before I rushed upstairs.

* * * * *

"I like you in these... _skinny jeans_..." he smirked, holding my hand as we walked around Liverpool. "They show me the shape of your arse -"

I slapped his arm playfully, shutting him up. "Hey!" I exclaimed.

"Are you Ringo Starr?" There were two women in front of us; old ladies, really.

Ringo smiled at them. He opened his mouth to reply, but then I said, "no, this is my fiance, David."

"Oh, I, er... yeah. Hi." He gave an awkward wave.

"You look just like Ringo Starr." One of the old ladies said with a smile.

"I get that a lot." 

"I saw _The Beatles_ live once," the second old woman said.

"Did you?" Ringo asked in an interested tone. "When?"

"It was the greatest night of my life," the woman paused. "I spent an unforgettable night with John Lennon -"

I giggled and Ringo elbowed me, stopping me. "That sounds like John, alright -"

Now I elbowed him. "Shut it!" I hissed.

The two women looked between us and then to each other. "If you, um, see John, then can you tell him that Rosalind Cannon was asking after him?"

I wanted to point out that John Lennon had been dead for almost forty-two years, but then I thought better of it. Something gave me the feeling that this woman knew more than she was letting on.

As Ringo and I continued to walk through Strawberry Field - a place that I couldn't ever have imagined walking through with a Beatle - we began to sing softly

_There are places I remember all my life_

_Though some have changed_

"Wow," I said, turning to him. "Those lyrics - where did you get them?"  
He shrugged. "I don't really write songs... I think I might give them to John." I nodded.

"You definitely should."


	40. Chapter 40

When we got back to forty-two Admiral Grove that night, Michelle and Lucy were waiting for us. "Ooh," Michelle teased, "who's this?"

"You were gone when we woke up this morning - _Ringo Starr_!?" Lucy exclaimed excitedly, staring at the Beatle in front of her.

"Ritchie," I said, "these are my roommates, Michelle and Lucy." I gestured to the two of them in turn. "Girls," I said, addressing my roommates, "this is Richard... um, Hoffman... my fiance."  
"The one who bought you that ring!?" Lucy asked excitedly.

Ringo laughed, "well if I didn't, then I'd want to know who did." He held out his hand to each of the girls to shake, "it's nice to meet you two."

"So, Ritchie," Michelle said, "why is this the first time that we're meeting? You're marrying our Ellie, and you've been dating for a year and a half -"

"He's busy in London a lot," I said, jumping in to answer the question before Ringo could in case he said something that didn't coincide with the lies which I had told. "He doesn't get the time to come and see little old me, do you, Ritch?"

I turned to him, narrowing my eyes at him so that he knew to agree. He nodded, "oh, uh... yeah."  
"You look just like Ringo Starr..." Lucy trailed off.

"I get that a lot."

I smiled. "Well, you know that Ringo is my favourite Beatle?" 

Ringo smirked, "oh is he?" He paused, "you've never told me that before, birdie -"  
"Aww!" Ringo and I turned to Lucy who was clasping her hands together by her face, smiling adoringly at us. "You two are so -"  
"Sickening." Michelle teased. She grabbed Lucy by the arm, "Luce, we're going to stay the night at a hotel -"  
"But -"

"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow," Michelle reminded her, "and we know what those two will be doing," she shot us a look, "or _who_..."

She pulled Lucy out of the door. "Bye, girls!" Ringo called as he gave a little wave as they closed the door behind them. 

Ringo turned to me. "So... what do you want to do?" I asked him.

"You mean _who_ do I want to do?" He smirked and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the staircase in the living room. "You, preferably, pretty birdie."

I giggled and led the way to my room eagerly.

* * * * *

When we were done, we laid in bed, Ringo's arms around me and his chest against my back. He sighed, "it's been so lonely without you," he said. "1965 is _nothing_ compared to 2022." 

"I missed you too," I answered. "And I disagree - 1965 is better because you're there."

I could almost _hear_ the smile in his voice as he said, "well I'm here now. So 2022 is the best place in time for the two of us at the moment."  
I smiled and turned in his arms, giggling as I felt his almost fully erect cock against the inside of my thigh. I place a simple kiss on his lips before I got out of bed and went to get the photo album. 

I brought it back to bed with me, still wrapped in his shirt which had come back to Liverpool with me all those days past.

"Is that my shirt?" He asked, fingering the fabric. I nodded, giggling as he wrapped his arms around me again. "I was wondering where that one went - it was my favourite."

I smiled, "well, it's my favourite, too... but this is what I wanted to show you." I unwrapped the photo album and showed him the cover.

"I thought I lost this..."

"Ritchie?" I asked in surprise and confusion, "what are you talking about?"

"How is this even possible?"  
"Now you're confusing me." I paused, "what is it?"

"I started making this photo album the first time that we met," he sighed before he looked at me, "this must be how we're connected."

"Through a tatty old photo album?" I raised an eyebrow, "Annabelle gave it to me -"

"Ah yes," he said in an amused tone, "the witch -"  
"If it helps," I interrupted, "I'm pretty sure she isn't a witch -"

"I can't believe you have this - that she had it." He opened it and looked through the photographs. 

When he reached out to touch one, I said, "careful! That's how _I_ get back in time, so I don't know how it would work for you - maybe your ring wouldn't work if you went back this way, and then you'd never be able to get back to me."  
He nodded and continued to look through - making sure not to touch any photographs.

When he went to move past early 1965, I stopped him.

"Why?" He asked me as I held my hand over his, preventing him from turning the page anymore.

"Because that's the future... your future, anyway." I paused, "if you see the next photographs then it might change something important."  
He sighed. "You're always so worried about changing the future, why don't we focus on changing the now?"

"What do you mean by that, Ritchie?" I asked him, closing the photo album and rewrapping it in his old shirt before I went to go and put it away.

"I want us to have a baby."  
I turned to him, my mouth wide open. "Is _that_ what you came here to talk about?"  
"Well not entirely -"

"I can't believe you." I said, putting a hand to my forehead and pacing around the room (stark naked).

"I think it'd be right for us -"

"And when would it grow up, Ritchie? 2022 here with me at university? Or -"

"No, of course, I'd take care of it while you were here -"  
"So you expect me to miss part of the first part of my child's life so that _you_ can have a companion in 1965?"

"I want a piece of you with me always, El." Ringo pleaded, watching me move back and forth across the room. I began to pull my clothes back on.

"You've got photos of me." I reminded him. "And the ring that I put on your finger at the Antique Shop -"

"It's not enough."

"But it has to be!" I cried, whirling on him. "I can't come home with you until next year, and I'm not giving you a baby until then!"

He sighed and I sat on the bed beside him, my back facing him. "I'm sorry for asking," he said, reaching out gingerly to rub my back through the thin cotton t-shirt I had put on, "I just... I miss you so much, and I thought this would fix everything until you could join me."  
I turned my head to him and laced our hands back together. "It's okay... I understand... I think, anyway. But I don't _want_ to be the absent parent. I want to be there for our children when they come - every day of my life and of their's."

He sighed again.

"I promise," I said, "as soon as I finish school and come to live in the past permanently, we'll try."

His face brightened considerably at that. "I love you." Ringo leaned forward to give me a kiss.

I kissed him back and then smiled when we pulled away, "I love you too."

"Come to bed?" He gestured to my space. I nodded and got undressed again.


	41. Chapter 41

The next morning, I woke up with a smile on my face as the early morning rays of golden Liverpool sunshine shone through the window of my bedroom despite the curtains. Everything felt so different in the sunshine.

Everything was perfect. 

It was Valentine's Day, and I was in the arms of my valentine.

He was breathing softly against the warm skin of my neck, and in the middle of the night, I'd turned to face him.

"Ritchie?" I whispered, not wanting to give him a terrible wake-up call. "Ritch?"

His eyelids flickered open and his beautiful blue orbs were on display for me to gaze into. "Good morning, birdie." He pecked my cheek. "Happy valentine's day."

"Happy valentine's day." I returned, "I love you."

"I love you more." He promised.

"I love you and I can't wait to be your wife." I grinned and nuzzled my nose against his, the two sides of them touching.

"I love you and I can't wait to be your husband." He responded, lacing our hands together amidst the duvet. "What are our plans for today?"

I smiled, breathing out contently. "I was thinking that we could spend all day in bed..." I trailed off, moving my lips to beside his ear. I knew that nobody would hear if I spoke at a normal volume, but I wanted what I said next to sound secretive and naughty, "with your cock buried between my legs." Oh, it was definitely secretive and naughty... and seductive, and dirty, but he loved it, and so did I.  
My fiance chuckled and I felt his cock was erect against my leg just seconds later. I giggled and wiggled against it teasingly. "I thought you'd never ask, birdie."

The hand which wasn't laced with my own slipped around my body and to my arse. He squeezed it before he cupped it in his calloused drummer's grip and pulled me closer to him. "That sounds like a plan I can't refuse..." And then he pulled himself on top of me and pinned my arms against the pillow which my head was laying on. I giggled and tried to break free, but he just added more pressure, dipping his head low to kiss my pink lips deeply.

I immediately spread my legs for him and he slipped in between them, his cock slicking itself in my juices and parting my folds before we'd even begun.

Ringo laughed as I moaned because he was already starting to move his body in an effort to please me.

"Ritchie," I moaned, "just - _ah_!" As he pushed inside of me, my legs went lax and fell flat against the mattress at the sheer size which I was taking in. He always seemed bigger than he had the last time we had had sex.

"You like that?" He growled, nipping at my earlobe.

I nodded, whimpering as he sheathed his cock entirely inside of me and then began to pull out, not waiting for me to acclimatise to his sheer size.

Before he had pulled out an inch, he was pushing back in, continuing to tease me until my body was thrumming with the electrical energy of an upcoming orgasm.

"Ritchie," I begged shamelessly, "please!"  
He smirked, "are you close, birdie?" I nodded, looking at him with adoration in my wide eyes. "Want me to touch you?" I nodded again.  
"Please, Ritchie!"

His smirk grew as one of his hands snaked its way between us and to my clit, which was almost screaming for his attention. Ringo rubbed at it and brought me to the edge before he stopped. I wanted to ask him why he'd halted actions, but as he exploded and a warm feeling overtook my insides, I knew why.

I screamed as I fell over the edge and into a mind-bending orgasm. Ringo cumming inside of me had pushed me to my limit and now I felt as much pleasure as he had.

* * * * *

We spent the rest of the day in bed, fucking or dozing in each other's arms. It was simple, and cosy. We didn't need presents to make the other person happy because we had each other. It was all that we needed.

Ringo sighed as he turned over in bed, fresh from his most recent sleep. He didn't look happy.

"I have to go..." he trailed off sadly.

I closed the book which I had been reading (I hadn't been tired), put it on my bedside table and turned to him. "W-what? W-why?"  
"Because Eppy and the boys didn't know I was coming to see you - well, Pattie did, so she probably told Geo, but -"

"You have to go." I interrupted sadly. "I knew this moment would come."  
"Don't be surprised, baby," Ringo replied, getting out of the bed and pulling his clothes on, "we'll see each other in just over a week."

"Oh right," I said, "the movie."

He nodded. "We'll be in the Barmies from the 23rd. You'll be there?"

I sighed and nodded. "Somehow... not sure how yet, but -"  
"That photo album of our's has never failed you before." Ringo reminded me as he leant down and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "I love you." He took the photograph from the jacket he had been wearing the previous day and unfolded it. "See you in a bit, Luv."

"See you soon, Ritchie," I answered sadly. "I love you."

And with that, he was gone, and I was left alone on Valentine's Day night.

February 23rd wasn't _that_ far away, anyway. Just nine days... but right now, that felt like forever.


	42. Chapter 42

_23rd February 1965_

When I arrived in 1965 on 23rd February, I was in the middle of a bamboo beach hut, the furniture in the only room of the hut was minimal-looking. I looked around and noticed one of the shirts over the back of the chair and then I smiled. I was in Ringo's hut, undoubtedly. I was wearing a pair of deep blue denim flare jeans with a cropped cotton top. I went over to his wardrobe and opened it, beaming when I saw that he had had all of my new clothes flown out to the Bahamas with him.

I took out a dress; it seemed much to warm outside to wear a pair of jeans.

The dress was a very pale pink, and there was a pair of bright pink Mary Janes in the bottom of the wardrobe, nestled amongst his shoes and more of my own.

I put it on and then looked at myself in the mirror on the wall. I looked good, I had to admit. I decided it was time to show myself, so I opened the door of the hut and walked out.

There were five huts all facing each other, and in the middle was a bamboo bandstand with four men sitting around it, a cloud of smoke surrounding them - but it wasn't cigarette smoke.

I sighed and hurried down the steps of the hut, going over to them. Ringo was the first one to see me. "You came!" He exclaimed, holding out the joint in his hand to me, "want some?"  
I shook my head, waving my hand in disdain at it as I sat in Ringo's lap... but then I saw the three other Beatles staring at me, and I knew that I had to at least _pretend_ to fit in. "Well..." I took it from him and inhaled deeply, choking on the smoke.

Ringo laughed and took the joint from me, giggling as well. The three other Beatles all laughed and pointed their fingers at me, saying that Ringo's girl was 'inexperienced'. I sighed.

"Right, boys!" The four Beatles and I all jumped, turning to the direction which the voice had come from. It was Brian Epstein. "Time to work!" He joined us under the bandstand, smiling at me. "Lovely to see you again, Eleanor."  
I smiled, "and you, Brian." I paused, "what scenes are the boys filming today?"

He sighed, "I don't know, but with the amount that they've smoked already today, I doubt that much shooting will be done."


	43. Chapter 43

_18th July 2023_

My eyes searched the crowd for any sign of him. An expensive-looking jacket, or a large nose or a bright, proud smile, even a slightly grown-out Beatles mop-top hairdo.

But I couldn't see him.

I sighed and sat back down beside Michelle and Lucy, looking through the envelope of certificates that we had been given on stage when our names had been called. I sipped at the glass of complimentary champagne. 

"He's not here, is he?" I shook my head and Lucy rubbed my back.

"We're supposed to be getting married in a little over a month, and he couldn't even be bothered to show up for my graduation!" I burst into tears. Michelle wrapped me in her arms and rested her head on top of mine.

"Um, Ellie?" I sat up and wiped my tears, seeing that Zak and Zeke were standing in front of us. Zeke and Lucy had broken up, but they were still good friends, and Zak had grown up a lot in the three years since we had first met, so he wasn't as completely unbearable as he had once been.

"What is it, Zak?" I asked, wiping away more tears and sniffling. "Now isn't a good time -"

"There's a guy outside who looks like that Beatle, and he says that he's with you?"  
Lucy grinned and clapped her hands together, sweeping her black graduation gown around her side. "He is!" She exclaimed. "I'll get him - you go to the toilets and clean yourself up." I nodded and thanked her with a kind smile as I left.

I looked in the mirror and reapplied my makeup, luckily having brought it in my handbag. "Your father would have been proud of you today - and your mother, too."

I jumped and turned, seeing Annabelle standing beside me. She was smiling.

"T-thank you..." I trailed off, turning back to the mirror and giving my full attention to reapplying my mascara.

"I'm proud of you, too."  
"You are?" I asked in surprise.

Annabelle nodded. "When I gave you the photo album, I was almost certain that you'd give up halfway through and just go and live with him."  
"It was difficult to make it last." I agreed. "But we're at the end of it now - after today, I'll be living with him, and then when he's done touring, we're going to get married."  
Annabelle smiled affectionately and reached out to touch my black hair. She wrapped some of the smooth locks around her finger and then said, "just be careful."  
A toilet behind us flushed and a girl who I didn't know came out of the cubicle. She washed her hands quickly, gave me a small smile, and then left.

"Careful?" I echoed, "what do you mean?"  
"You know what happens to them," Annabelle answered. "To all of them... you mustn't try to change that -"  
"But George..." I said, "and John -"  
"That's how it has to happen." The elderly woman said firmly. "I know you've tried to stop George smoking, but it won't do him any good. Time has a way of correcting himself. If it isn't cancer, then it'll be a car accident, and if it isn't that then it will be an embolism."

I looked down at the floor.

"But you know that I'll always be around for you to speak to - the same place on Penny Lane, just as I've been since -"

"He's here." I turned to see Michelle standing by the door of the toilets, a smile on her pretty face.

I thanked her and said that I'd be right out - I turned back to say goodbye to Annabelle, but she was gone.

I sighed, looked at my reflection in the mirror one last time and then nodded. I had to do this. The rest of my life started today.

I hurried back to our table and beamed when I saw my Ringo sitting beside Lucy, and then an empty seat beside him.

"There she is!" He exclaimed, jumping off of the seat and hurrying over to me. "My birdie!"  
I laughed, unable to stop myself from crying because of the extreme happiness which I was feeling. We wrapped our arms around each other and then our lips collided, cementing themselves together briefly before we heard Lucy clear her throat.

Hand-in-hand, Ringo and I walked back to the table and retook our seats. "I'm sorry I missed the main ceremony, El," he said, "I was outside, but because I didn't have an invitation, I couldn't get in -"  
"It's fine," I promised. "All that matters is that you're here now."

Ringo nodded. "And I am _never_ letting you go again." His arm snaked around my waist. 

"Oh!" Lucy exclaimed dreamily, "you'll both have so much fun in London! And I might have to come and visit you -"

"I don't live in London no more, Lucy," Ringo replied. "Bought this little house in Surrey - reckon El will love it."  
 _Sunny Heights_ , I thought. _I'm going to live at Sunny Heights!_

I nodded, smiling. "I'm sure I will -"

"We're off until the 11th August, and then it's a flight over to Chicago. 12th August, we've got a show there... then we're touring until 29th August, and after that, it's all over." He beamed. "And we'll be getting married."

Lucy squealed. "I hope I'm invited to the wedding!"  
"It'll just be a small affair abroad," Ringo told her so that her feelings weren't hurt. "You won't be missing much -"  
"I'll be missing my best friend's wedding!" 

"Well," I bit my lip, "maybe we'll have a reception when we get back home." He nodded.

"Maybe." Ringo agreed.

"And if we do," I said, knowing full well that it wasn't going to happen, "then you'll all be invited."  
Zak, Zeke, Michelle, Lucy and Brandon - Lucy's boyfriend - all thanked us. They were more than eager to see Ringo and I finally tie the knot.

"Congratulations, you two." Michelle raised her flute of champagne. The others did the same. Ringo had been given one by somebody on his way to our table, and so he raised his and I raised mine. "To the Hoffmans!"  
"The Hoffmans!" They all exclaimed, clinking their glasses with mine, Ringo's, and each other's before we all took a gulp of the alcohol.

I had never been happier in my life. I almost wished that I could bring the people I had met to 1966 with me.


	44. Chapter 44

_29th August 1966_

On what was the happiest day of my life, all I could think about was how fat I looked in my dress and how Jane Asher was going to be in attendance... and how today was the last day of _The Beatles_ tours... forever.

Ringo was on edge. He knew it was the last, but the others didn't - they thought they were just taking a break from touring for a while.

Pattie was doing my hair since she had done it for all of her photoshoots in the past.

"You look lovely." She assured me.

I hummed absentmindedly. "Thanks."  
"Why are you so distracted?" She bent her legs and slotted her head over one of my shoulders. "Is something wrong?"  
I didn't answer, stuck in my own head with my thoughts.

"El?" She tapped my shoulder, regaining her full height to get my attention. I jumped, turning to her.

"Um, yeah?"

"Did you hear what I said?"  
I shook my head slowly, "um, no. Sorry, Pattie... what did you say?"

"You seem distracted," Pattie repeated. "Why?"  
"Oh, I'm just... just nervous about today - and Ringo's on edge about the show tonight, and I can't believe that it's the last show of the tour, and for a while -"  
"It's crazy." She agreed, twisting my hair onto the top of my head, "but you're holding something back... what is it?"  
"I'm not -"  
"You've got a tell." Pattie shrugged. "And you're all done."

I turned round in the chair to face her.

"What are you hiding?"

I sighed. "Pattie, I..." I stood up and went to look in the mirror at myself. "Do you think I look fat in this dress? Like, would the size of my stomach draw attention?"  
I put my hands over the small swell of my stomach.

Pattie took a few seconds to understand what I was saying, and then she jumped up and down excitedly, clapping her hands together. "No way! No way! NO WAY!" She threw her arms around me. "You're pregnant!?"

I laughed nervously and nodded. "Definitely..."

"How far?"

"Um," I bit my lip, "about three months... but I only just put it together yesterday."

Pattie, arguably, was happier about the baby than I was.

"When are you going to tell Ringo?"  
"Probably after the show tonight," I responded. "I don't want him to be distracted while he's on stage -"  
"You have to tell him before."

"But -"  
"Imagine how happy he'll be when he finds out he's going to be a dad -"  
"Who's going to be a dad?" John Lennon asked, popping his head around the side of the door of the church.

"John!" Pattie and I exclaimed in surprise.

"What if I was naked?!" I asked him, slapping his arm as he came into the room laughing.

"Then I would have wished I'd brought a camera." He sat down in the chair which Pattie had been doing my hair in. "Now," he said, "who's going to be a dad?"  
I sighed. "Ringo." I paused, "but you can't tell him - I want to do it myself."  
He smirked, "so he finally did it, huh?"  
"Did what, John?" Pattie sighed, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Well, you, apparently."

I slapped the back of his head teasingly. "Not funny, Lennon." I paused. "Promise that you won't tell him?"  
John nodded. "I promise." He paused, "so when is little Julian getting a playmate, then?"  
"In about six months." I paused. "John, is everything ready downstairs?"  
He nodded. "Just about... but you should let him know before the wedding starts because otherwise, it'll weigh you down."

"What do you know about conscience?" I asked him, slipping my feet into heels.

"Nothing... but I know you, and I know Ringo." John stood up and kissed the top of my head, "best of luck."

* * * * *

As my maid of honour, Pattie walked down the aisle ahead of me. And then, when it was my turn, I knew because Ringo's face lit up and everybody paid more attention to what was behind them... me.

I started to walk down the aisle, Harry Graves at my side as he was giving me away.

The closer I got to Ringo, standing with three best men at his side; John, George and Paul, the more I saw his smile grow. We were so close to the rest of our lives, and the little baby in my stomach served to attest to that.

I got to the alter and Harry handed my hands over to Ringo. Ringo beamed as he looked directly into my eyes.

"I have to tell you something," I said quietly and quickly. He nodded, waiting for me to speak.

"We are gathered here today," the registrar began as everybody retook their seats and the ceremony began.

"I'm pregnant."

Ringo's eyes widened. He turned to the registrar and held up a hand, silencing the man. "We want to get right to our vows."

"But -"

"We _want_ to get right to our vows," Ringo repeated in a level, slightly threatening tone.

A thrill ran through my body at his voice. "Y-yes, Sir..."  
Ringo cleared his throat and began to speak. "Eleanor Minter," he began, his smile widening even more, "we've known each other for three years, and in that time everything has happened. We're about to start the rest of our lives together as a family of three." A collective gasp ran around the church. Behind Ringo, I could see John smirking, Paul's mouth wide open and George grinning like Christmas had come early. "So, I'd love to have you as my dear wife, and at my side for all of time."

I looked at the registrar and he nodded, giving me the go-ahead. "Richard Starkey, you are the only man that I have ever loved and the only man that I ever will. With every day that has passed us in the last three years, I have loved you more than the last, and now I finally get to say the two words to you... I do."

The registrar then said, "Richard Starkey, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife for as long as you both shall live?"  
He nodded. "I do."  
"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss your bride."

His arms went around me and closed the space between us as our lips touched and everybody in the church cheered. When we parted, we rested our foreheads together and he said, "I'm going to be a daddy?"

I nodded, our heads rubbing together, beaming.


	45. Chapter 45

_13th February 1967_

On the same day that the double A-sided single, 'Strawberry Fields Forever/Penny Lane' was released, Pattie was by my side as I was in labour.

"Where is my fucking husband!?" I screamed, another contraction coming on barely a minute after the last.

"I don't know," Pattie answered in a level tone, trying her best to maintain the calm voice which she was always best known for. "I'm sure they'll be here soon, I called them almost two hours ago, the baby can wait for a few more -"  
"No, it can't!" I screamed, my mind literally shattering from the pain which I was in. "I have to get it out _now_!" 

"But Ringo isn't -"  
"Just help me get it out, Pattie!"  
She nodded and rushed to get the supplies.

A few minutes later, she returned with towels, a bowl of steaming water, two empty bowls, blankets and two cups of tea - this took her several trips to get it all up to the bedroom.

"Okay," she said, breathing deeply, "you need to, um... to spread your legs." I nodded. She draped a blanket over them so that my vagina was partially covered, "and relax." I nodded and tried, but the pain I was in was extreme.

"Fuck, I just want to push, I -"

"Okay..." Pattie swallowed. "I think it's time for you to... y'know..."

I pushed as hard as I could, feeling nauseous. "Pattie!" I screamed, "bowl!" She nodded and got off of the end of the bed, grabbing an empty bowl and throwing it under my mouth just in time.

When I was ready, I pushed again.

Pattie squealed in delight. "I can see the head!"  
That gave me more motivation, so I pushed again, my stomach aching as I pushed a small person into the world using the muscles in it.

"Keep going!" My friend urged, "just two more and I think it'll all be -" 

I screamed in pain as my vision blurred and I realised how close I was to the end. Finally, my child - _our child_ \- would be born, and I wouldn't have to spend any more time looking like I'd swallowed a watermelon.

The sounds of crying filled the room and I relaxed, feeling utterly spent. Pattie cut the cord on my baby's belly button and washed her off in the warm water which she had brought up. She wrapped the baby in a blanket and then showed it to me. The baby wasn't crying anymore, and instead, its bright blue eyes were looking around the room excitedly.

"This is your daughter," Pattie said softly as she handed the baby over.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I looked at her. She was perfect. Gingerly, I reached up and brushed a few strands of dark black hair - my coloured hair - back from her head. I smiled adoringly.

"Oh, Moira..." I cooed, "you're everything your daddy and I wanted..." I yawned, looking at Pattie. "Pat, can you take her? I need to sleep -" 

Pattie nodded and took Moira from me. "What if she gets hungry?"  
I yawned. "I only need twenty minutes... she'll be," I yawned again, "fine..."

Pattie nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. I managed to put some panties on and get under the blankets before I fell asleep.

* * * * *

"There now, little Moira," Pattie cooed at the bundle of baby girl in her arms, "aren't you just perfect -"  
"Pattie!?" Ringo exclaimed, rushing into the house with the three other Beatles, "is El alright -" he cut himself off when he saw the baby. "Is that...?"

"Your daughter," Pattie told him. "Moira." He reached out to take the baby, but then he stopped. 

"Eleanor!" And he dashed up the stairs, leaving Pattie with his daughter.

**Ringo Starr's POV**

I pushed the door open and it swung open, slamming against the wall behind it. I dashed in and over to my beautiful wife who was lying in our bed, her eyes closed. I kicked my shoes off and removed my coat before I climbed into the bed next to her.

"El?" I said softly in her ear, brushing some strands of dark hair back from her head, "Ellie?"

She stirred, opening her eyes. She looked around the room before she turned to me and moved her legs, wincing.

"Moira!" She exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. "Is she -"  
"She's fine," I promised. "She's downstairs with Pattie and the boys... she's perfect... I'm so sorry that I wasn't here with you, but the traffic was -"  
One swift kiss to the lips and I was silenced. She smiled. "It's fine." She promised me. "I'm just so glad that you're here now -"  
Pattie knocked gently on the door before she entered. "Hi..." she said, still holding Moira in her arms, though she was now fussing. "I think she's fussing - I wanted to keep her downstairs for as long as possible to give you two some time, but then John took her from me and pretended to breastfeed and after that, she just got really -"  
"It's fine," El said, waving Pattie closer. "I'll feed her."  
"Do you know how?"  
She shook her head, "no, but I'm sure I'll manage to work it out."

"I'll just, er... leave -"

I went to get out of the bed, but El put a hand on my arm, stopping me.

"Actually," she said, "I'd really like you to stay. I think that this is special for us."

I nodded, smiling as I pressed a soft kiss on the top of my infant daughter's head.

"I love you," I said. " _Both_ of you... and I don't think I will ever be as happy as I am right now."


	46. Chapter 46

_22nd August 1969_

**Siella Norman's POV**

"Dada! Dada!" I giggled at the sight of my energetic, rambunctious two-and-a-half-year-old daughter running around the grounds of Tittenhurst Park.

Ringo turned away from George, who he had been conversing with, and bent down to pick up our daughter.

"Hey, Mo!" He grinned, spinning her round and round in his arms. "You okay, darling?"

She replied, "dada -"

"Have you told him yet?" I jumped, turning around. Paul's new wife, Linda, was behind me.

I shook my head. "Not yet."  
"Are you going to?" I nodded.

"I have to."

"You should."  
I nodded again. "I know, Lin, but it's just... it's been a crazy year, and -"

"And what?" She crossed her arms against her chest, barely able to do so because of her enormous baby bump - Paul and Linda's first child together was due in just two weeks.

"And I don't know if we're ready for a new baby." I sighed, "if now is the right time, then -"  
"Everything happens for a reason," Linda said in a convincing tone, clasping both of her hands with either of mine. "And this is no different."

I smiled and embraced her, having to stand at an awkward angle because of the swell of her stomach. "Thanks, Linda... you're the best."

She nodded. "Why don't you tell Moira first, though?" She paused, "take a walk around the grounds and explain that she's going to be a big sister."

I nodded. "That's a good idea."

I went over to Ringo, George and Moira. "Hey, sweetie," I said, taking her from Ringo and sitting her on my waist, "fancy going for a walk?"

"Where're you going?" Ringo asked as I leaned over and kissed his lips softly.

"Just around," I told him. "I thought it'd be good to get Mo out from under your feet - Ethan wants to get the photographs done."

"Okay," Ringo said, "well don't go too far - and there's a lake somewhere over there," he waved in the general direction of John Lennon's lake, "so keep her away from it."  
I nodded. "I know how to look after a toddler, thank you." I answered in a taught tone of voice, "it's not difficult -"

"Not when you have three governesses," Ringo answered under his breath.

"What was that?" I asked him, putting Moira on the ground and taking her hand so that she didn't wander off while I was talking to her father.

"Nothing." He turned to me and smiled. "Just come back safe." Ringo kissed my cheek. He knelt down and smiled at Moira. "You look after your mummy, okay?"

She giggled and nodded. "Love you, dada."

He beamed. "I love you, Princess."

Moira and I walked around the large grounds of Tittenhurst Park, hand-in-hand. "You're going to love Liverpool, sweetie." I sighed, "and we're going to be so happy with Michelle and Lucy..."

I took the locket out from my sundress and put it around my neck, unsure if it would even work, but hoping that it would.

"Hold on tight, sweetie," I said as I clutched at her little hand more tightly. "And say bye to 1969..."

I stroked the locket and the wind picked up, whistling through the trees and surrounding the two of us.

* * * * *

I took the phone from my hand, surprised that it was there even after me living for three years in the past.

I dialled the first of two numbers; Michelle.

"Hello?"  
"Michelle Baxter?" I asked, recognising the familiar voice but wanting to be absolutely certain.

"This is she. Can I ask who's calling?"

"It's Eleanor... Ellie Hoffman?" I paused, "from school?"

"Ellie!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Hi! Oh my God, is everything okay?"  
I bit my lip, shaking my head and trying to get rid of the tears which clouded my vision and threatened to overflow. "No, it's uh... it's not..." 

"Mama?" I looked down momentarily at my daughter, who was looking up at me.

"It's okay, sweetie." I sighed, turning my attention back to the phone. "Michelle, do you still live in Liverpool?"  
"Yeah," she replied. "I haven't moved - what's wrong?"

"Ritchie and I..." I trailed off. "We, um... well, maybe getting married so young wasn't a good idea -"

"Where are you?" She asked me, "do you need me to come and get you?"  
"I-I have a daughter," I told her, unable to stop the tears from flowing. I hated myself for crying in front of Moira, but I couldn't stop it.

"It's okay." Michelle promised, "I'm coming now. Where are you?"

"Strawberry Field," I told her, looking around at the familiar park, the exact same place that I had left when I had been with Ringo just over three years previously.

"Wait for me at the gates. I'll be fifteen minutes." I nodded and hung up, beginning to lead my daughter through the park, wiping my eyes as I went.


End file.
